The Fourth Class

It's 2:45 a.m. and I couldn't sleep. So, I decided to get up and write. I also decided to log onto Vienna's blog (without her knowledge) and post what I wrote. I hope this makes sense in the morning...

I used to not be a big fan of change. Now, that’s not to say I didn’t like improvement or growth. I’ve just always been a firm believer in the idea that “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” And there are many aspects in my life that don’t need fixing as they do fine for me.

This last week my wife and I had a beautiful, healthy baby. This event changed what class I pertained to in college life. Now, for those unaware of how college life is separated, there exist four classes. There are freshmen, single students, married students and students with kids. They don’t generally mix, except for class projects, and if they do, it’s because either party doesn’t know of the other’s situation; when they do, thus ensue two situations, the awkward “How’s that treatin’ ya? Do ya like it?” conversation or a comment like “Cool.” with a looming silence afterward. I’m now in the final class; from this point on I am that guy with a kid.

Anatole France, a French novelist, said “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.” Those who read that might think a small part of my “married student” life “died” when we had our baby and, in some essence, you’d be right. Life has become less spontaneous and more prearranged. Do I regret it? Not a chance.

A person with a narrow perspective longs for and wishes to continue living the experiences of a previous class, looking towards their peers there and imagining of how much more fun they must be having. But adulthood is a fickle beast that hides itself and waits to descend upon the most unsuspecting, whether it is in the first meeting with your future companion or the two lines on a pregnancy test, it waits.

As the degree of responsibility increases, so does the potential for joy. I have lived them all and can say, unequivocally, the most joy, and the most stress, is found in the fourth class.

Now, with a baby, there is change every day, and I’m happy with that.

I have my own blog. It's robgoates.blogspot.com. It's definitely not as pretty as Vienna's is, but it gets the job done, I suppose.