The Zen of a Friday afternoon cookie.

I walked downtown to get my Friday cookie this afternoon, and as soon as I walked out the door I immediately noticed the gentle scent of salt air. It got my mind rolling on a number of thoughts, but most of all, it generated a sense of relief, and, in my own long-winded way, I’ll tell you why.

There are lots of things they don’t tell you when you’re about to have your first child. Like, ‘You’ll never sleep again.’ Okay, they do tell you that, but you don’t believe them. I mean, sure, the baby will cry at night for a few days, and then settle into a nice 10-hour a night pattern…..right? Fortunately, I majored in Sleep Deprivation in college, and double-minored in Stress and Caffeine Addiction, so the whole not-sleeping thing wasn’t that troubling.

The say, ‘Kids will change your life.’ Well, could you please be a bit more vague? Duh, they’ll change my life, how could they not? One day, I had no drool on me, and I had nothing to do with any solid or fluid coming out of any other person’s body. A few years later, I can change the worst poopy diaper without losing focus on the ballgame on TV. Poop, pee, drool, or other substances on my being don’t daunt me. I do aspire to someday again be bothered by the sight of someone else’s poop. It’s a goal of mine.

Wrapped up in the whole ‘change your life’ theme is what I’ve found to be the most monumental impact that kids have: decisions. They were so easy when Sal and I were just two kids without any cares. The most difficult decision we came across was ‘Do we buy one case of Ramen Noodles or two?’ After I (finally) graduated from college, we moved to Maryland. Why? Because we’d be able to get the Redskins games on the tube. That’s it. That’s the reason. Well, that’s my reason. Sally moved to Maryland because I was moving to Maryland, and she had sunk too much time, effort and money in hooking me not to follow through (which ended up paying off, I might add). I would interview for jobs, and the guy across the table would ask why I wanted to move there. I’d tell them why, and they’d laugh. I would smile politely, all the while thinking, ‘What’s so funny?’

Add a kid, and decisions become exponentially more difficult. Even the simple ones. ‘If I buy two cases of Ramen Noodles, will I still have enough for his college fund?!?’ They don’t prepare you for that. If I can point to any one element that has made me the upstanding, calm, very adult person that I am, its having to make decisions that will potentially have a huge impact on another human being’s life. And not just any human being – my human being. Talk about pressure.

On a warm sunny day in Camden, Maine four years ago, Sal and I sat on the rocks and looked out at the harbor. One of us remarked at how beautiful it was here, and the other replied, ‘Well then, why don’t we move here?’ Since that day, that conversation, and this day, again sunny, warm with salt in the air, there has been much worry. Discussions, decisions, second-thoughts, re-decisions and sleepless nights. ‘Input’ (I’m using that word loosely) from family members. Concerns about the impact of a possible move on Michael. If we make the wrong decision, we screw up the rest of his life. Or, at least that’s how it felt. No pressure.

Smelling the salt air today brought to mind that despite having two nutty, energetic kids and a seemingly hectic life, it’s a good life, and they’re good kids. And I finally realized that this big decision we made was the right one. That realization is very satisfying. Almost as satisfying as a Friday afternoon cookie.