Time moves faster in February, doesn’t it? I’m no physicist, but I’m pretty sure it has to do with the Leap Year. None of that Leap Year stuff has ever sat right with me. We’re just going to have a couple less days in this month and we’re all supposed to be okay with it? Seems like poor planning on someone’s part.
Anyway, with this month basically being halfway over already, it has me thinking back to a conversation I had with my son on the last day of January as we were all getting ready for the day.
Now, I don’t know about you, but to me, January lasted approximately 63 days. We had snow storms, very few school days, melting, mud and I don’t want to brag or anything, but I was sober for IT ALL. Yes, I completed Dry January – which means, for at least 31 days, I was slightly better than everyone.
Anyway, after I gave the kids the calendar, weather report and read the menu for school lunch, our (almost) 6 year old sweetly said, “wow, that went fast! January felt short!”
Hold the phone, my little man. Short? The month that somehow bent reality and magically doubled in length felt short?
I laughed and I asked him what he meant and with his perfect voice, which somehow seemed more mature than it was just the day before, but still so small and innocent, explained that it went fast because he got to spend so many days at home with us and his siblings. “Since we had snowstorms and so many stay at home days, I got to be home a lot. It was fun and it made it all go so fast, mommy!”
Oh, buddy.
Was he saying that for the same exact reasons January felt slow and sometimes painful (again, Dry January) for me were the same reasons it flew by in a core-memory packed blur for this perfect boy? While I was ushering it out of our house like a rat with my broom, he was spending time reflecting on the togetherness, the family puzzle night and lopsided snowman we made at 9 o’clock one snowy morning?
Reality Check. Gut Punch. Cartoon frying pan to the head while little cartoon birds fly around. What? How did I misread the room so badly?
For a long time I prided myself on the fact that nobody could make me change my mind. Which, honestly, looking back was probably pretty annoying and possibly somewhat toxic – so, many apologies far and wide for that character flaw.
I’ve also always been a “call things as I see them” type of gal. Well, kind of. I’m sort of a recovering people pleaser who, in my mid-thirties, am just now comfortable with saying almost exactly how I feel about things. So, before I was really a “THINK things as I see them” type of gal, but, you understand what I’m trying to say, right?
And, hoo boy, had I made up my mind about January. I called it EXACTLY how I saw it. That shit was rough.
So, when my own flesh and blood gave me an account that was so vastly different than my own, my initial reaction was the same one I had in 2015 when a picture of a dress divided our country in half. While some of you insane people saw a gold and yellow dress, I was clearly, without a doubt, staring at a garment made of BLUE and BLACK material. It didn’t make sense.
Except then I gave it a beat. And I really thought about it. And it broke my heart a little.
What am I doing rushing these days? These nights? These moments? Do I think by rushing them out the door, I get to bank them up into vacation time later? No, that can’t be it. Then, what?
I won’t pretend the work doesn’t exist. The grownup responsibilities and tasks don’t disappear no matter how much snow is on the ground, I know that. And yes, it was easy for a 6 year old to have fun with his siblings when he was home from school, because the biggest decision he had to make those days was whether to have peanut butter and jelly or dino nuggets for lunch. But, he was right.
This little boy’s viewpoint is important to me. Not just because it’s his and he’s mine, but because he’s on to something. Something I wish I had more of and something I need to go on a quest to find. It’s a little bit magic and it’s a little bit unrealistic and it’s a little bit basic common sense, and it’s probably just waiting to change my mind on a lot of things.
Which begs the question: What else have I made my mind up about that needs another perspective? How far back do I need to go? Did this short conversation with a 6 year old FINALLY teach me a lesson that has just never sunk in before? I think it did. Maybe it will teach you one, too. Sometimes you just need to strip things down and see them for what they are – be those snow days at home, a situation with your career or even making a list for the grocery store. The option is always there and I guess, just like my treadmill downstairs that’s collecting some serious dust, I need to start using it more.
So, tonight, even though it hurts me a little to be wrong – I’m thanking God for a long, sober January – and the perspective of a little boy who teaches me something new about myself (and about dinosaurs) every single day.
It's Mackenzie Eddie 