Thursday
10/22/04
The Calm Before the Storm
Although it can logically be said of any season, for me autumn is the season that most represents transition. Transition from the carefree downtime that is summer into the season of routine and responsibility that is school and work. Transition from a season of heat and growth into a season of harvest and promise fulfilled.
I would in fact argue that it makes more sense to begin the new calendar year in September than it does in the dead of winter. We have, after all, mostly relinquished the notion that Sunday is the first day of the week as a practical matter; why not celebrate New Year’s Eve on a balmy September day?
And what exactly does that have to do with anything? Beats me. I guess my point was that up until this year autumn has always been a great source of material about my boys in transition. New classes, new teachers and new challenges; all great fodder for fresh, homemade blogging goodness.
This year is, however, turning out to be something of a disappointment. All the transitions to new classes, buildings and teachers have been relatively smooth and uneventful. There have been no missed busses, no mystery clumps of glue in the hair to be removed, no endless bouts of strep, no lost shoes… and nary a trip back to school to retrieve "forgotten" homework. All in all it’s been a very organized season so far.
But, as I’ve noted before, I’m a tool-using primate with a large forebrain that’s capable of non-linear thought. In short, I’m capable of anticipating events far off in the future… Yes, before I know it both my boys will be teenagers. The bathroom door will be locked all the time. The phone will ring nonstop, and it will never be for me. The family car will arrive home one night with a flat tire and bits of hedge peeking out of the grill. My Lovely Bride and I will return home after a weekend get-away and, despite the standing ban on parties, the house will have mysteriously taken on a certain bouquet not unlike that of a soiled bar towel. Oh yes, and then there are the girls…
So, having looked into the future (Some skeptics may be tempted to imagine that rather than the future it’s my own past that has inspired the above scenarios; but such a notion is nothing more than stuff and nonsense. Rest assured that my altar boy-like adolescence was the very model of a well spent youth. Ahem. ) it’s clear to me that there’s plenty of testosterone induced trouble on the horizon and there won’t be enough hours in the day for this dad to blog it all.
Today’s lesson learned? Embrace all that’s peaceful and revel in all that’s uneventful now, ‘cause the barbarians are at the gate.
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The Calm Before the Storm
Although it can logically be said of any season, for me autumn is the season that most represents transition. Transition from the carefree downtime that is summer into the season of routine and responsibility that is school and work. Transition from a season of heat and growth into a season of harvest and promise fulfilled.
I would in fact argue that it makes more sense to begin the new calendar year in September than it does in the dead of winter. We have, after all, mostly relinquished the notion that Sunday is the first day of the week as a practical matter; why not celebrate New Year’s Eve on a balmy September day?
And what exactly does that have to do with anything? Beats me. I guess my point was that up until this year autumn has always been a great source of material about my boys in transition. New classes, new teachers and new challenges; all great fodder for fresh, homemade blogging goodness.
This year is, however, turning out to be something of a disappointment. All the transitions to new classes, buildings and teachers have been relatively smooth and uneventful. There have been no missed busses, no mystery clumps of glue in the hair to be removed, no endless bouts of strep, no lost shoes… and nary a trip back to school to retrieve "forgotten" homework. All in all it’s been a very organized season so far.
But, as I’ve noted before, I’m a tool-using primate with a large forebrain that’s capable of non-linear thought. In short, I’m capable of anticipating events far off in the future… Yes, before I know it both my boys will be teenagers. The bathroom door will be locked all the time. The phone will ring nonstop, and it will never be for me. The family car will arrive home one night with a flat tire and bits of hedge peeking out of the grill. My Lovely Bride and I will return home after a weekend get-away and, despite the standing ban on parties, the house will have mysteriously taken on a certain bouquet not unlike that of a soiled bar towel. Oh yes, and then there are the girls…
So, having looked into the future (Some skeptics may be tempted to imagine that rather than the future it’s my own past that has inspired the above scenarios; but such a notion is nothing more than stuff and nonsense. Rest assured that my altar boy-like adolescence was the very model of a well spent youth. Ahem. ) it’s clear to me that there’s plenty of testosterone induced trouble on the horizon and there won’t be enough hours in the day for this dad to blog it all.
Today’s lesson learned? Embrace all that’s peaceful and revel in all that’s uneventful now, ‘cause the barbarians are at the gate.
