It's all... so... simple...

I hope Pea doesn't jump the gun.

Now that the Pod is back at work, life is... different. Instead of quietly sneaking out of the house and driving 45 minutes to work, my mornings now involve dropping Pea off at my Pod-in-laws, dropping the Pod off at the office and finally making my way to work. Each way is 1.5 hours.

Our refusal to buy a second car is the right choice, but the 3 hours I spend driving every day gives me time to think, to say the least.

Lately, I've been thinking "simplification". Reduce the commute. Get more sleep. Eat more efficiently. Spend less money. Blog more often. Get more exercise. Have more fun. And so on.

Earlier tonight, I had a Eureka moment... I was convinced that simplification was right around the corner, or in this case, just down the street. In what I am now calling a "severe moment of weakness", I pitched my foolproof plan to the Pod:

Me: Let's sell the house and move downtown.

Pod: What? Why?

Me: We'd be closer to work and remember how much fun we had when we lived downtown?

Pod: What about Pea?

Me: She can come too!

Pod: Thanks, genius. I meant life downtown would be different with a kid. It's not all pub nights and shopping sprees. Pea'll have so much less space in a condo... we went nuts in a condo, just the two of us... now we have a hurricane to add to the mix!

Me: We could get a 2-bedroom plus den. It'll be great!

Pod: And what if we are blessed with another kid?

Me: They can share a room, they'll be best friends!

Pod: You've thought of everything, haven't you?

Me: You know it! WOOT WOOT!

Pod: And if we have a boy? Don't you think they'll want their privacy eventually?

Me: Well...

Pod: We'd have to pay ridiculous condo fees for a bunch of amenities we'll never use...

Me: Right...

Pod: And what about breaking our mortgage?

Me: So we'd have to pay a few thousand in penalties.

Pod: Isn't that a little counter-intuitive to you?

Me: I guess...

Pod: And Pea would never be able to ride her bike... there's too much traffic and smog. And we'd have to go all the way down to the park for her to play, instead of watching her frolic in the backyard. And even then, there's a pervert on every bench downtown.

Me: She could ride her bike in the condo! And we'll get a sandbox for the balcony!

Pod: (Blank Stare)

Me: Ok, bad idea.

Pod: I don't exactly like the suburbs either, but we agreed that we want Pea to grow-up with a backyard to play in and space for us all to keep our sanity. Remember, the more things change, the more they stay the same. We'll settle into our routine and all will be well again. Give it some time.

Me: You are so wise.

So, I'm still looking to simplify, but I now realize that our life is no longer meant to make sense all the time. The only thing I can count on is change. And it's a good thing I took all those change management courses at work, because I'm going to need them.

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't jump the gun.

(N.B. The above conversation has been embellished to illustrate my point... it's my right as a blogger.)