Mario Andretti, I Give You My Keys

When you have a baby, big things change. Things like sleeping when you're tired and eating when you're hungry. Things like your health insurance premiums and how much stuff you carry with you every time you leave the house. But little things have changed too. Like how fast I drive. Don't get me wrong, I still don't understand people that go under the speed limit, but I used to be the person passing everyone, and now I'm the person being passed. Oddly enough, it's not just when Abigail is in the car. And it doesn't always feel safer either! Going the speed limit and having the headlights of a huge pick-up boring into your rear-view window does not feel safe. Of course, at that point my stubbornness kicks in, but that's a different story altogether. This story is about me slowing down, and how it almost seems offensive to drive so fast. Maybe my inner rhythm is coming off the breakneck speed it's been on for so long. I've had much fewer problems with anxiety since getting pregnant and adopting a paleo diet, so that may be a big part of it. Maybe it's left overs from everything slowing down when I was on maternity leave (I barely left the house for 6 weeks, and loved it). And maybe it's the subconscious knowledge that another person's life is dependent on mine. I hope this "slowness," this absence of an ever-present need to go faster and get more down continues though.