Well, let me explain. First off, it’s not like they’re giving me any of that pressure you often think of–no “when are you going to find a nice girl” type stuff. If anything, I’m getting the opposite. It’s more along the lines of “don’t even think about getting married until you’re at least 25.” However, I’m still starting to worry about where I am in my life. I think a bit of background is in order.
First, my family isn’t all that big. Nor is my extended family. My father has one brother, my mother one sister, and I have one first cousin (from my uncle’s family.) I now have a first cousin once-removed as well–cute kid (still an infant or toddler, not quite sure of her age), though I’ve never seen her in person. For that matter, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen my cousin and I haven’t seen my uncle in about a decade for reasons I’m not going to go into here. There is a huge group of people from my paternal grandmother’s family (I’ve been to a couple of those reunions, but I never really knew anyone or felt like I fit in), but I’ve never really thought of them as family. I do have a–well, I believe they are my mother’s aunt and uncle, so whatever that makes them to me (great aunt and uncle?)–not so far away in Altoona, but the only time I’ve seen them that I can actually remember was four years ago. My maternal grandfather’s past family is truncated fairly quickly, at least anyone we know about. I probably have some other distant relations in Pennsylvania as well, as well as in South Carolina and Georgia, but I’ve never really thought about it. Anyway, my point is, my family as I think of it is small.
Now, the reason why I don’t think much of my more extended family and rarely see my closer extended family is because my little branch of the family (parents, me, and my brother) is the only part of the family west of the Mississippi that I know of. Not much of a story there, I guess–they all found work in that part of the country and Dad took a job in Albuquerque. Simple as that. If he hadn’t, I guess I would’ve been raised in the DC area–northern Virginia, to be more accurate, depending on whether or not they ever looked to move out of that apartment.
Anyway, my parents married young in the early 70s. Dad was 23 and just had finished his Masters, Mom was 20 and still an undergrad. I believe they met on a blind or semi-blind date. For various reasons, they didn’t have any kids for another decade (I’m the first child.) Mom had to finish school and then pay off her debt to Uncle Sam. Dad went back to school to get his Ph. D. in an unrelated field. So they really weren’t in a good position to have kids until the very late 70s or early 80s anyway.
So there it is. I’m 22 years old, and I know I’m too young to really be worrying about those sorts of things, but still, I can’t help it. Plus, I’m expecting to go to grad school this fall, which will be another major change. For whatever reason, I keep comparing where I am to where my parents were. I think the perceived small family is a factor as well–makes for a deeper feeling of needing to pass along the old genes and the like, even though I never conciously think about it. I also think there’s also some first child (not to mention first son) feelings going on as well. And, not helping matters, spring is almost here, and we all know the old cliche for that one.
I just can’t shake this feeling that I should be settled down in a year or two, with some kids in a few years once I could support them properly. And the thing is, I’d be perfectly happy to do so if I found the right woman. Of course, I’m not quite in the right possible line of work for that kind of thing. I want to do the whole “put in your 8 hours, then go home to the family” kind of thing (perferably with good pay and a nice bennies package, or at least good insurance), not the “in lab all the time doing research” type thing or the “trying to make it in the academic world” thing. Problem is, that makes jobs kind of hard to find, even if ACS has a tech division. Not to mention the pay isn’t as good and the job can be kinda repetitive. And, of course, there’s the whole problem of finding the right woman in the first place. That isn’t helping either.
I guess I just needed to get it off my chest. It’s not really the kind of thing I talk about with my parents. (My parents, in a conversation once: Dad: “I may have been only 23, but I already had my Masters.” Mom: “I was a Southern girl, so it was expected.” Something along those lines, I believe.) It’s frustrating, and somewhat stupid, but still, it’s there; no matter how much I try to not worry about it, at times it sneaks back in. (Last time it hit me was when I was watching The Incredibles in a theatre; I only wish I was kidding. Not quite what I needed while trying to enjoy the movie. Stupid bloody psyche.)