Do we all do this? Try to give our children all the good things we got, plus more? It's surprising how often I think about this, because it's really dumb. But I read books to H about farm animals (the cow says moo, etc) and I realize that this is part of my childhood that I can't pass on. I grew up in rural Pennsylvania, and we weren't on a farm but we were surrounded by them. I can't remember ever not knowing what a cow was. They were everywhere, on every drive to town. I even love the smell of their poop in the air. We had friends who raised goats, and went to feed the babies every spring. We had horses, and geese...And now? I have to take H to a petting zoo if I want him to know about the cow that says moo. And it kinda really bothers me. I mean, a big rambling house, woods to play in, tractor rides from the neighbors, fresh corn right from the fields in summer, playing tag with a big elm tree for home base, chasing fireflies, 10 mile drive to the grocery store. That is all me, and it's not H. He is a tiny city house, ice cream truck, coffee shops, city buses, walking to the fireworks on July 4. Recycling. Pizza delivery. Zoo in the neighborhood (alleged home of angst-producing petting zoo in addition to lions and tigers and such). Will all my history die with me? Those are my memories, and for some reason it seems natural that H should share them, since he is so so such a part of me. But he's not, not that part. And taking him to a petting zoo to see the cow that says moo, for some reason it brings it all up, and I can't bring myself to do it yet.
Meanwhile, one of the mothers in my mother's group is expecting another bubba, the first in our group. Another thing to think about.