Where did that summer go?
Every year since we started blogging we go back to this one article that just plainly summarizes why we love the fall:
“The autumn breeze smells faintly like frost. Like stepping in front of a fan on a hot, humid day, the crisp morning air wakes you up with a splash of memory.”
We’ve republished it a few times as we’ve updated the blog, but it goes back to easy walks through our neighbourhood with our then 8-month-old, as we reminisced about our own first year dating and taking long drives through the countryside to see the colours and sample the food. At the same time, we mused about the days when we’d walk to school as a family, skipping and frolicking all the way.
Of course, that small human is now entering grade one, and has surprised us immeasurably by, of all things, having his own personality and his own ideas about just about everything. He’s smart. He’s funny. And he has a temper. A big one. And…he’s incredibly curious.
Curious is great. Curious is intelligent and natural and normal. But, it also turns the ten-minute walk to his school into about 45 minutes of sitting in one place watching ants crawl in and out of a hole, testing out the strength of various sticks, or just standing in one place.
As nice as it is to explore as a family, there’s not much appealing about leaving for school an hour early and standing around in the rain (or snow) while trying to nudge a reluctant traveler down the road, all the while having that 9 a.m. workday start looming over the return trip.
And so most of the time, we drive.
Yes, we’re well aware that there are environmental factors, exercise factors, and on and on. But sometimes what we envision as our “ideal” morning just has to give way to pure practicality. Dawdling is an artform unto itself (ask Steve’s mom!), and it definitely has a place in weekend meanderings and after-school puddle jumping. But real life and practicality will have their way…sometimes more often than we’d like.
This is the time to breathe in our truth. When we have an idealized thought in mind about what we’d like to see happen, we can become disappointed, or even saddened, when things don’t work out. Being flexible enough to know that life, especially with little people, isn’t easily regimented into what we want it to be means doing our best to experience the joy in what is rather than escaping into the fantasy of what we want.
We always have plans for the fall, of course. Road trips. Walks in the woods. Farmers markets. The works. This month, this year, Amanda has a yoga retreat far away. Steve has a band. We both have jobs. Things are scrambled.
And that’s OK. Because we all still have time together. We still have moments to pause. And we still have plenty of opportunities to make memories in the between times.
And there’s always time to stop and check out a cool leaf for five minutes.