A Room with a View

09.22.2010

If you’ve read past entries and remember, you know I’ve lived in my apartment for 27 years. As a result, I’ve lived in every bedroom at different points in my life so you can imagine that I should know the view from each window pretty well. But, as this morning proved, I don’t.

Before going on my walk, I decided to be good and stretch. While stretching my quads, I looked out of the window and noticed that I could see this one house’s attic. It took a moment to realize that that’s what I was looking at and then I was taken aback. How many times did I look out of this same window and how did I never see an attic?

Then, while on my walk, I reached a street that’s on my route and, for reasons that don’t matter, decided to cross it and walk on the other side. I started to notice scenes that I had never seen before. I questioned how after 31 years of living in the same town, how did I never notice certain building’s designs and architecture, windows, colors and shapes?

By this point in the morning, I had two examples of looking at something I saw for decades and it appearing different. This got me thinking. What if I shifted my own kaleidoscopic perspective on having kids and looked at it through different shapes and colors?

So I did.

I imagined we had a kid of about three and he was in the car with me singing his ABCs from the backseat. I imagined our daughter asking “Why?” after anything and everything I said. I imagined her being held by Rob as he swung her up and down, giggling.

I then imagined midnight feedings, diaper changes, and temper tantrums. I imagined holding her hand at the doctor’s office as she got a shot or feeling bad that I worked late and missed bedtime. I imagined feeling both scared and elated for his future and insecure of my decisions. I imagined family gatherings and family vacations, and even alone time with Rob talking about all the silly things our kid says and does.

This exercise made me think about how it doesn’t matter how conservatively or liberally we live our live. We are creatures of habit; we like our patterns and rituals. It’s hard to force yourself to look through the same window of your life and see something different because we often don’t pay attention to the details. But when it happens, whether consciously or by accident, the experience offers an awakening to the fact that there’s more to life than the daily grind.

The conclusion to my kaleidoscopic shift of a possible future with a kid is –

Well, let’s say that I liked what I saw. Poopy diapers and all.