top of page
  • Kristen Kehoe

The Second-Guessing Game

When I wrote the first three drafts of this post, it all equated to a big long story about how parenting is hard, and unlike Old Man River, I second-guess every single decision I make, from the amount of milk I put in my coffee to whether I’ve stunted Olivia by putting her in 9 million activities. (Directly after which I wonder if she needs another music class or sport, because piano and band and basketball and Irish dance and tennis aren’t taking that much time…but also, why isn’t she motivated to learn calculus on her own?)

But then, in true Krissy fashion, I second-guessed whether that was a valid thing to read or do, you know, putting all of your crazy on display for people in a less-than-quippy fashion, and, without second-guessing, I deleted them all because it boiled down to this: second-guessing is bullshit.

This week, we learned a lot as a family. Liv didn’t get a part in the spring play, so we all learned how to feel disappointment in different ways; Liv took a mid-year growth/placement assessment that gives a key that means nothing to me, so I learned how to read the key, and then I called my sister Bri, and asked her to learn so we could decide if I'm a freak, or if Liv needs math intervention (conclusion: I'm a freak); work is hard—being positive and pushing forward when you’re uncertain if you’re making a difference is even harder; being a triangle is not what we planned, but it’s the strongest shape for a reason, even if it feels weak on days when all you want to do is play in the snow and your parents aren't as fun as someone your age would be (or a sibling, but mine were just both bitches who abused their power and threw ice in my face, so there's a lesson, too).

This morning, Jan shared a story about how he didn’t take a job long ago because it was offered in the middle of the school year and he already had a job. This led to the realization that, although he had really wanted that job, if he had taken it, we wouldn’t have met, because I didn’t arrive in Reno until the next school year.

When he was telling me this, I got worried, like somehow this could retroactively happen (Old Man River, and the knowledge of how time works in the most basic sense, assures me that it cannot, but I’m still on the lookout). Jan just reminded me that it didn’t happen. Just that simple. He didn't take the job, and I didn't move to Portland like all of my friends. We both chose something we were uncertain about. And in the end? We got to choose each other because of those decisions.

Lesson: we make decisions and shit happens. Sometimes it’s bad shit, and we have to make different decisions. Sometimes, though, it’s amazing, life-altering shit, and we get to walk in the snow and fall on the ice and laugh with the man who made one decision that, combined with my decision to move south instead of north, created this life. And that’s something I don’t second guess. Ever.

So, there it is people, the moments I lived in this week. We cried (well, Liv and I did. Jan gave lots of hugs), and then we laughed. And then I fucking won at Monopoly, which has been three months coming. Which means now? Now, we celebrate.

Happy weekend, loves. Until next time.


91 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page