Adventures in Babyland

No, I've never been a traditionalist. I didn't get a degree in something that would get me a job, I studied film. I've never had your regular 9-5 job and never wanted the whole 2.5 cars and a baby; or whatever that American dream is supposed to be comprised of.

But then I got married and the whole American dream put it's vampire teeth into me. I felt the pressure to buy a house, to get a new car, to secure my career and to have a baby. Society has this crazy power, stronger than anything biological. I fought with Lorenzo about how buying a house was a good investment, I convinced him that I needed a big yard for the garden I was going to plant. Now here I am with a house I bought during the housing bubble that I won't make a dime on, a yard overgrown with weeds, and a failed garden. Who am I and what happened to the spontaneous girl Lorenzo married?

He actually said that the other night when we talked about moving to Rome and I told him I was scared. He reminded me of how before Luca I would have just dropped everything. He also reminded me that most people don't have the opportunity to live in Europe. We have an apartment, a network of friends and family.

My twenty year old self would have a big talking to with this thirty three year old self. At twenty I dreamed of being a writer, sitting in outdoor cafes and riding my bike down a canal. No family cars or big houses with yards showed up in that fantasy. Somehow convenience has taken over adventure. I think my maternal instinct kicked in and has made me feel like I need to be rooted someplace. Plus, it's easier to have a baby in a place you are familiar with. (Funny how as I write this I'm now struggling to find things that make it easier.)

I guess I just know that fantasy and reality are two different things. I know that I will feel lonely and isolated because my Italian isn't great. I know that I won't have a job right away and I'll sometimes feel worthless without some type of goal. I know I won't have the network of friends I've built up in Portland.

But, I will be able to go on weekend adventures in places like Germany and France in the same amount of time it takes to get to California. And I'll enjoy a swim in the Mediterranean instead of looking at the northern Pacific and wondering if I'll get hypothermia if I stick my toe in. Yes, there are many positives. But then there's the talk I'll have to have with my mother who is smitten with her grandson and can hardly stand being a two-hour flight away. I'm not ready for that.

At this point, our fate rests in the hands of the housing market. Will it sell?