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The Last Child-Free Post

Ever since we found out last Friday that I would be traveling tomorrow to bring our son Andy home from Ethiopia, our days have been qualified with a notion of finality for our child-free existence. Last Saturday was the last Saturday night of child-free life, so after spending the day in a frenzy of preprartion for Andy’s arrival, we open a bottle of Moet and enjoying a leisurely meal of whole-fish snapper and oysters. Last Sunday we ran a 10K in Cohasset — the last race we would be able to run simultaneously unless one of us slugs along with a baby jogger. We are excited to welcome Andy into our lives, but quietly mourning the loss of our idyllic, harmonious existence as unfettered adults who can, say, wake up at 5am to drive to New Hampshire for a 15-mile hike, or spend an afternoon watching French repetory films at the cinema, or spontaneously drop by the yoga studio after work, or finish a bottle of wine at dinner, or basically do anything on our own without some degree of coordination and/or negotiation.

And blogging… well, I’ve never liked mommy bloggers, but that was before I was a mommy. I’ve been slacking on my blogging anyway in the past year or so. Sometimes I read my archives and marvel that I ever had enough free time to compose such creative, well-written posts (screw modesty, I shudda been famous. Who was better — Dooce? Mimi in NY? ) Given that I will be working part-time, I’m not sure that my time will be any more free, but at least I’ll have a constant source of inspiration — the ultimate source of inspiration.

So, I must finish this last child-free blog post, so I can go express one last hooray of my child-free identity… I am going to blast Arcade Fire while methodically and studiously packing and sipping on a glass of port, without a shred of worry or thought about what else might be happening in the house. Ciao.

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