I went to a baby shower (I just accidentally typed "baby show," which seems somehow telling...) last night, the last one I will go to (presumably) until I have my own. And while there, I had the sinking realization that I am, in a word, unprepared. As those who know me know, I am a list-maker, a decider, a task-mistress, a researcher, a detail-oriented gatherer of facts and figures of the most high order. And yet now, when faced with one of the most important tasks I will undertake, I find myself blithely, perhaps self-destructively unconcerned. I have not cracked a single parenting book. I have read my pregnancy books only twice in the last two months. I haven't looked on the web for info about all the crucial things to do in the first days, weeks, months, years, etc. I determinedly turn the channel whenever A Baby Story comes on (and right now I don't even have cable). I actually left the room last night when the discussion turned to lanolin and nipples and encouraging milk flow. I am, for all intents and purposes, ignoring all but the more pressing physical realities of this pregnancy.
And frankly, despite this little revelatory moment, I am not feeling all that inclined to change my tactics, such as they are. And I am beginning to think this reaction is somewhat pathological, but still, la la la.
Curiouser and curiouser, no?