The Water's Fine!
At church yesterday we sang "Down in the River to Pray," which I recognized from Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? It's a lovely song, and I was surprised at how much the singers and the congregation sounded like the original song, but I couldn't get past the image in my head of Delmar galloping into the water to get his sins warshed away. You know, it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out that they named their band "soggy bottom boys" because Pete and Delmar were probably still wet from their baptisms.
So far we like the church we've been attending. The people seem nice, the sermons haven't been blasphemous, and we enjoy receiving communion weekly. I have very few reservations. One reservation is that the rate of procreation there is a bit disconcerting to me. It almost seems like babies are fashion items, one attached to every hip. And if the hip is lacking a baby, the belly has a bump that promises one soon. I'm not against children. Seriously, I think kids are great, and I don't hate them. It's just that I react to the thought of children the way that I imagine men who fear committment react to the thought of marriage. I get that feeling like I'm slightly hyperventilating. I know this will fade, and someday I'll have these overwhelming maternal feelings that make me think that gosh-darnit, I'm going to populate heaven all by my lonesome, (er, with a little help from my husband) but for now, I'm not there yet. And maybe the sight of such rampant procreation makes me a little nervous. Like I'll drink the coffee and suddenly be pregnant with quadruplets.
I also wonder if our decision to wait to start a family will effect our chances of making friends there. It seems (in general) as though couples without kids have trouble making friends with couples who do have kids, much like single people have trouble making friends with couples. As a friend pointed out, it's like everyone is trying to recruit. If you're not married, they want you to get married, so you can be like them. If you're married but have yet to spawn, they want you to spawn, so you can be like them. And so on.
Why is it that relationships become more complicated the older you get?
So far we like the church we've been attending. The people seem nice, the sermons haven't been blasphemous, and we enjoy receiving communion weekly. I have very few reservations. One reservation is that the rate of procreation there is a bit disconcerting to me. It almost seems like babies are fashion items, one attached to every hip. And if the hip is lacking a baby, the belly has a bump that promises one soon. I'm not against children. Seriously, I think kids are great, and I don't hate them. It's just that I react to the thought of children the way that I imagine men who fear committment react to the thought of marriage. I get that feeling like I'm slightly hyperventilating. I know this will fade, and someday I'll have these overwhelming maternal feelings that make me think that gosh-darnit, I'm going to populate heaven all by my lonesome, (er, with a little help from my husband) but for now, I'm not there yet. And maybe the sight of such rampant procreation makes me a little nervous. Like I'll drink the coffee and suddenly be pregnant with quadruplets.
I also wonder if our decision to wait to start a family will effect our chances of making friends there. It seems (in general) as though couples without kids have trouble making friends with couples who do have kids, much like single people have trouble making friends with couples. As a friend pointed out, it's like everyone is trying to recruit. If you're not married, they want you to get married, so you can be like them. If you're married but have yet to spawn, they want you to spawn, so you can be like them. And so on.
Why is it that relationships become more complicated the older you get?
