It’s Not Paris, But it Works for Me (Guest Post)

Today’s post is a guest post by my hubby:

imageWhenever we start a new endeavor, we have high hopes, anticipation, and curiosity as to where that endeavor or journey will lead.  It’s no different when our children come into the world.  Will he or she be a Nobel Laureate, a Hollywood heart throb, the next President of the U.S., or, perhaps, even more pedestrian, simply a good human being? Either way, we have expectations and curiosities about the journey, all the while anticipating that we will end up at the destination we envisioned. I liken this to traveling abroad.

When we board a plane to Paris, we expect that our journey will take us to…well…Paris. When we have children, we expect that our journey will take us to our metaphorical, “Paris.” More often than not, though, because life is just life, we find ourselves disembarking somewhere quite different than Paris – like Istanbul.  Then we wonder, “How in the world did I ever get here??” When we realize that didn’t arrive in “Paris,” we can chose to either appreciate the uniqueness and beauty of our new, unanticipated destination or pity ourselves and curse the gods of destiny; it’s completely our choice.

A couple of weeks ago, Angie came home from a trip to the market to find Michael, Blake, and I all in the pool.  Angie quickly noticed that, while Michael and I were in bathing suits, Blake, was fully dressed. Yep, jeans, t-shirt, and socks.  She just looked at me and I just looked back at her with a smile.

For a lot of families, a day in the pool would be no big deal, because that is just “Paris” for them. In our family’s case, we didn’t land anywhere near Paris. OCD and anxiety diverted that flight. Blake doesn’t like a lot of things.  He doesn’t like getting wet. He doesn’t like going outdoors. At times, he doesn’t like to socialize, even with his family.

My “Paris” was having a family like the one in National Lampoon’s, “Vacation.” I sort of planned and built our lives accordingly.  I intended us to be the Griswold family; the kids and Angie even call me “Clark” because of my family idealism.  I always wanted a home with a pool so that we’d have plenty of days playing there and making memories. Trouble is, especially with Blake’s dislikes and “rules,” it just doesn’t seem to happen much.

On that sunny day, when the boys and I were just livin’ the dream, the idea of Blake being fully clothed in the swimming pool didn’t bother me a bit. I just sat back and reveled in my trip to Istanbul, and loved every minute of it.  I hope that you enjoy whichever destination that you may find yourself.

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