...lousy with anvils

"Its Groundhog Day. Again." While my love for Bill Murray is greater than it should be without a restraining order, I have muttered this line in my head countless times over the last year. Spring turned to summer, then came fall, and now we are up to our keester in winter. With the news that we still have 6 more weeks to go, the winds are sort of out of my sails. But despite waiting for spring with bated breath, we have been healthy and lucky to be so. The next 57 days cannot come soon enough. At least we do not have to start winter all over again.

I have to say that I find myself being nostalgic about the last 12 months. It seemed like a dreadful thought, to be MADE to stay home. I guess when they were threatening it in the early stages it seemed criminal.What were we going to do? And then life just answered the question, stupid as it may seem now. When we were all forced to stay home there were a few things I didn't mind. The shuttle bus was closed. Staying in your pajamas all day meant my laundry "fun" was rather slim. We learned new skills. Tried new things. We were forced to step outside of our otherwise normal selves, because what in the devil else was there to do? We got first jobs. We made new friends. We swam our tails off. We made more new friends. We challenged ourselves. We treated ourselves. We learned to appreciate who and where we were. We got drivers licenses or enrolled in drivers education. In short, we grew. But that nagging motherly instinct versus the hands of time started hovering over my head recently, like the Wile E. Coyote and the ever impending anvil.

I have many anvils. There are too many to account. My current anvil is watching a child and struggling with not stepping over the 'bounds' to let them grow into their own identity. For a few of them, time is ticking. Oscar registers for senior year classes this week. He has always had a gift for art. I finally persuaded him to enter some of he pieces in an art show. He won a merit award for one piece and even was awarded money. I think it was really eye opening for him. I am not sure what he wants to do with his gift art, if anything. I guess I am subliminally saying to them you don't have to know your adult career, but I really don't want you living in the basement forever. I do not want them to miss any opportunity that lie before them, as any adult knows all too well that said opportunities can fly by fast. If you are lucky enough to KNOW what you are good at, know your gifts, maybe ones that are uniquely your own, is that what you do with your life? Is that where you try to direct your career? Is it who you are, or is it merely something you are good at? The elusive self awareness anvil.

Meanwhile questioning my own identity, what am I doing? Where am I going? Am I setting a good example? I am asking my kids to do something I do not even have a handle on. I have struggled with this my whole life. I have never really taken a deep dive into anything, just sort of trying things out and seeing if it is fun or not. I am the least competitive person I know, I tend to stay away from it really. In my convoluted head, as soon as something got competitive, it was no longer fun. By being productively Switzerland, it has me at 45 asking, what now? It has me terrified that my kids will be the same way. "I learned it from watching YOU..." It is a hypocritical anvil I guess. 

Maybe Groundhog Day isn't such a bad thing after all. Perhaps Phil Connors was given a great gift we all could appreciate. Despite the fact that he had to repeat the same day over and over, he got the "do-over" we possibly long for at some point in our lives. Who knows where the next year will take us, hopefully back to some semblance of what life used to be like. Worst case scenario, we wake up at our alarm in the predawn hours, and start this thing all over again, anvils and all.