As the snow piles up here in New York, I long for those few blissful days we had in Florida a few short weeks ago. On one day, it was a bit chilly, if in fact you can call the mid-60s "chilly." But as always, we wanted to make the most of the day. We traded in our bathing suits for our cozy Pennymeade sweats and headed to the pier downtown. The children had a blast peeking over the pier at the surfers and fisherman, the salty air and cool breeze kissing their cheeks. As only young children do, they turned the walk into an adventure and even made friends with some wildlife along the way.
That sweet memory of my children on the pier got me to thinking about perspective. On that "chilly" day, we bundled up, but if we were graced with 60 degree temps today, my kids would be the first to shed their sweats and swap out shorts in their place. As moms, life is all about perspective and relativity. A mere six hours of sleep sounds terrible if you're used to eight, but if you're a new mom tending to a baby every hour and a half around the clock, six hours straight sounds like a pipe dream. As my youngest keeps up with his big brother and sisters, and my four year old outgrows another pair of boots, I am stunned at how big they've gotten, but again - it's all relative - and they are really just so small. The other night I was looking at some pictures of when our third child was born. At the time, our eldest seemed so grown-up. He was the big kid after all, two little sisters to look after. And through the lens of relativity, he was. But to look at those photos now stuns me at just how little he was.
As the kids traipse in and out for what seems like the eighteenth time to grab another four whole minutes of fun in the snow, I'm calling upon the gift of perspective. I know these days when everyone needs help to pull on their mittens and boots are but fleeting moments, and soon enough their independence will be my new reality. Until then, I've cleared the better part of my calendar to pour milk, button pants, tie shoes, and give thanks for the gift of perspective.