Thursday, November 7, 2013

20131107.0742

A thought occurs to me (and shuddering in either revulsion or terror may well occur to you as you read such a statement).  I have noted in at least some of the writing that I do and in several of the conversations I have had with people that I do not want to be that guy with the coming baby.*  We have all known that guy, the one who cannot talk about anything but the baby; it is difficult to fault him for being happy about becoming a father, and it is good to see him so taken with the child, but it becomes annoying to have only one thing to discuss.

I do not want to be inadvertently annoying.  I want to have more things to discuss.  And when I am annoying, I try to do it on purpose so that I can do a better job of it.  I have standards to uphold.

This webspace, however, is conducive to my ramblings and to discussions of things that might not be fit for polite company or oddities (such as science fiction franchise insults and racist video games) that I might be accused of overthinking matters for seeing and commenting upon them.  If there is a place for me to wax rhapsodic about the baby, it is this place.  And therein lies the dilemma that is the thought that occurs to me: how much of this space ought I to spend in discussing the child, both now while there is little to report (I cannot really see what's going on) and in the future when there will no doubt be a lot going on.

Here, as in meatspace, I work to demonstrate a diversity of interests and to consider a number of ideas.  I am a generalist literary scholar, trained to treat the words generated throughout the English languages as well as the contexts in which they are written and read.  It is to my benefit therefore to take a broader view and range fairly far afield in my writings, both professionally and more personally (as in this webspace).  Narrowing my field of discussion to the experience of nascent (heh) parenthood would seem to work against that benefit.

Too, there is the issue of the child's future.  In the years to come, will my child look back favorably on my commenting extensively on such things as development in utero and the early fun and adventures that I am warned come with a new infant?  I know that I am not always happy to have parts of my life detailed to others, whether by my parents or by other people entirely.  (I have discussed this at some length with my parents.)  Despite what I reveal of myself online, deliberately and inadvertently, and despite my not feeling shame about a number of things that perhaps I ought, I don't relish being bruited about.  I imagine that my child, who will be in some senses shaped by my views and actions, may well feel similarly...

At the same time, I am REALLY excited about becoming a father.  My child is always on my mind, and I am still giddy--yes, actually giddy--about meeting the developing person I have helped to make.  My child is going to be awesome, and the world needs to know of such awesomeness...I am just not sure how much.

*While in other capacities, the term might be sexist, I am referencing my own situation and those similar to mine, and I am male (there are relevant anecdotes).  I do not presume to comment about the female experience of pregnancy or to claim that my experience as an expecting father is nearly so...involved as that of my wife as she carries our child.  But I have no qualms about commenting on mine, as should be obvious. 

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