Six weeks of summer: Weeks 5 and 6, my summer of color
Today I’m going to talk about the last two weeks of […]
Today I’m going to talk about the last two weeks of my six weeks of summer with my little man, which means I’m about to go back to work—and the daycare chapter of our lives begins. As you all know from my previous post, I’ve really enjoyed my time with Ben and was very anxious about this next phase. I was not looking forward to going back to work and being away from him.
You’ll be pleased to know my separation issues are starting to subdue. Unfortunately, they’ve been replaced with something else …
You see, over the last six weeks something unexpected has happened that, quite frankly, I love and don’t want to lose: I’ve completely fallen into his rhythm.
When I say this I don’t mean the rhythm of his napping pattern or when he likes to eat or have his bottle, although that rhythm I clearly have. I mean the rhythm of how he sees the world and interacts with it.
I might get a little deep now, so if you like the lighter posts, you may want to zone out. Because here’s the thing: Over the past I-don’t-know-how-many years I’ve become a grown up, like the grown ups I used to look at as a kid who sometimes got so caught up in planning or striving for perfection or pay raises that they forgot to be in the moment.
I used to look at adults like that and feel a little sorry for them. From my perspective as a child with a vivid imagination, it seemed as if becoming an adult meant you saw everything in black and white. And here’s the thing, I’ve realized that I am kind of that adult. I mean, most of us are. We have to be when there are bills to pay and futures to think of. Sometimes seeing things in black and white is important.
But over these past weeks I’ve rediscovered that part of me that saw things in more color, or rather should I say, Ben has showed it to me again with his lovely personality that is growing day by day. (Or maybe I’ve just been around more to notice it?) You see, Ben’s got such a gentle nature about him. He’s not attention seeking or demanding at all, but rather he’s a little boy who stops to watch the leaves rustle in the trees or a duck swim on water with a wonderful curiosity. He sees the joy in the small things, and when we’ve been out walking I’ve stopped often to let him enjoy the small things, which has consequently allowed me to do the same. Slowing down to see the world as he does has shown me once more how colorful and beautiful it really is.
Here’s an example of how it has changed my perspective …
A few days ago we went for a walk down what I call the secret pathway due to it’s almost obscurity from the road and the trees that have grown over to create a natural, vibrant green tunnel. It is a walkway I’ve always enjoyed. But because I was moving slower and stopping often to show Ben the pretty flowers and interesting leaves, we ended up being directly under a handful of squirrels who were playing and chasing one another. Just Ben and me alone on a path watching squirrels play. I know that without him in my life I would have missed that. It’s not even about the squirrels playing—but the symbolism behind them. I would not have noticed them without Ben, and it makes me wonder, what else in life have I missed before he came into it? And more importantly, what wonderful things will I see in our future because he is now part of mine?
This brings me back to my new worry I mentioned at the beginning: What if I go back to work and back to the routine of forward planning and grown-up thinking and forget the beautiful world that my boy has shown me over the last six weeks?
I guess that’s something I’ll discover in the very near future. And if I had to summarize these past weeks of summer holiday, I would say that with his teething and crawling, it was Ben’s summer of growth and my summer of color.