if only I could be a time traveler

Sure, I'd love to return to a pre-gray hair, non-wrinkly-eyes state, but my desires today are not of the recapturing youth variety. I'm happy to be where I'm at in life, but I do think there would be some major advantages to my overall mental health if I could only take a few trips back in time. The purpose would be to simply give myself some reassurances to assuage some of the anxiety that accumulated at significant points in my life.


The impetus to this train of thought is my growing anxiety at the prospect of returning to full-time work for the first time in five years. Never before have I tried to juggle full-time teaching (which we all should know by now equals a hell of a lot more than 40 hours a week) as a parent of three children. I'm stressing out, wondering how in the world all the little pieces of the puzzle are going to fit together. If only I could receive a visit from me circa January 2012, reassuring me that we have all finally gotten settled in a new routine that's working. That would be nice.

That got me thinking about how the me today could help out the me of days of old. If I could take just a few trips to my own past, I think these would be the ideal dates, along with the "wise" words I'd share with myself:

• June 1993, High School Graduation-- Don't sweat the valedictory speech, because really, no one outside your family members will really be paying any attention. Just say the words you have on your little index clouds and be done with it. You're not going to make any big slips- verbal or otherwise- and soon enough, you'll be starting the rest of your life.

• August 1993, College Orientation-- Guess what? Your future husband is among your ranks, even if you won't officially meet him until the first big snow later that year. I won't say anything else, because you've got a fair share of mistakes to make over the next few years that simply have to be made.

• June 1, 1997, College Graduation-- Pack an umbrella. And no, your super-short, cool hairdo doesn't make you look too much like a guy when your graduation cap is on.

• May 24, 1998, Wedding Day-- Leave the umbrellas home, along with all your crazy, hive-inducing nerves. It will be beautiful, in ways you can't even imagine.

• May 25-31, 1998, Honeymoon-- Take off your watch, for god's sake. You won't be in a tropical location like this again for a long, long time, so stop thinking about what time it is and just enjoy yourself.

• August 12, 2000, birth of JAM-- Um, yeah. It's going to hurt. Really, really freaking bad. But, you CAN do it the way you hoped to, even when it seems like it's never going to be over. The pushing will eventually come to an end, with a scrunchy little BIG baby to show for your efforts.

• May 8, 2006, birth of Red-- You got this girl! Your fears of a repeat performance from JAM's birth are all for naught- 20 minutes is SO much easier than 3 hours. 

• April 17, 2007, blogging debut, part two-- You know this little "blog" thing you just rediscovered? Keep it up, and you'll be amazed at how much fun, joy and opportunity it brings you. Just keep typing away.

• November 15, 2007, birth of Pudge-- He's going to be HUGE, yes, but each birth will have been very different, and well-handled by you. You CAN do it.

• Every morning between August 12, 2000 and now, the mass of my parenthood experience-- Focus on the positive today. Yes, there's going to be defiance and naughtiness, but please try to find the moments of joy in between all the crazy times. Everyone will be a lot happier that way, especially you. (Okay, okay... I realize this one means I'd time travel back to every day for just about the last eleven years, making this a lot more than a few trips. Cut me some slack, though, seeing as this is an imaginary scenario and all.)

Oh, to be a time traveler, the self-reassurance that I could offer. Someone better be working hard on that machine somewhere.


Entertaining magical thinking for a day,




Image by Miguel Saavedra, http://www.rgbstock.com/populargallery/saavem