Nothing like applying for life insurance to make you consider your own mortality.
Today I spent 30 minutes on the phone, completing an interview with a life insurance company so they can decide how risky I am and thus, how much the insurance will cost. The initial questions -- about things like cocaine use and bungee-jumping and piloting airplanes and international travel -- simply reminded me how very boring I am, as I answered "no" to every question.
But then, as the interviewer listed through scores of health problems and medical conditions (to which, thankfully, I mostly also answered "no") I began to think about why we're getting life insurance policy for me. Two reasons: Junius and Pippi.
My husband (bless him) is the primary bread-winner in our house these days. Although I make enough money on contract work to pay for preschool, it's his salary that keeps us afloat. But what I don't earn in cash, I make up for in fixing lunches, changing diapers, wiping noses and entertaining toddlers -- and those things aren't free if Mommy's not around. So instead of relying on the grandmothers to move in and care for our kids (no offense, Nanna and Nonna, but not sure that's a good solution for anybody), we need a way to pay for childcare and other supports if I'm gone.
And there, I said it: If I'm gone.
Makes me want to stop writing and go vomit.
All I know is that I hope this is like carrying your umbrella so it won't rain. By having this insurance policy, what I'm really trying to ensure is that I'll be around a very, very, very long time.