season.

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9/25/19. season.

It feels like we’ve been in a perpetual season of summer. And not just because we’ve hit 99 degrees in the middle of September (but that certainly doesn’t help). With just five days away from October, my sons are still sporting tank tops and shorts. When we go outside to walk and play, their cheeks and calves turn pink. The leaves are finally starting to turn but not because of cooler weather ahead because of extreme drought and dehydration. And with all of that it really feels like summer and man, of man, am I ready for a change. And not just the desperate change of season. I’m ready to embrace change and maybe, just maybe, break free from this schedule I’ve been white knuckling these past fifteen months. Yes, if you’ve tried to schedule anything with me since my sons were born then you know the schedule I’m referencing. The 7-11-3-7 schedule. That’s right, the chicken schedule. Fifteen months in and we’re still going strong with meals at 7-11-3-and 7 (yes, four full meals, they eat non-stop) and two naps in between at 9:30 and 2 (here lately the second nap is more wishful thinking). Now before you get all judgy, we’re not militant about this schedule. I mean, I don’t wake my sons up at 11 from their 9:30 nap with a peanut butter sandwich in my hand. If a chicken is sleeping, you let the chick sleep! But . . . we have been saying “no” to a lot of things we could be doing because this schedule is what holds us together, better yet, it’s what holds me together. And the boys know it. By 9AM, the boys are walking over to the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs ready to go up (smart chickens!). But am I teaching them to be rigid? Am I preventing them from learning flexibility, resiliency, whimsy? These are the things that keep me up at night. You know, how I’m potentially damaging their future selves. I better make sure my counselor is not planning on retiring in the next eighteen years. Just in case. In all seriousness, I’m now down to three months left in the year. My sons are never going to learn to be brave, if they don’t see that action in me first. So, baby steps. We’ll stretch them a little along the way, and who knows by the time cooler weather does arrive, maybe I’ll be stretched too. ​