February 29th.
I have an unusual fascination with dates and anniversaries and where I was or what I was doing on a certain date. It's enough to drive me (and those around me) crazy sometimes.
The last time the calendar turned to February 29th was four years ago today, in 2012.
When I think about how much life has changed for me since the last time I wrote February 29th on the board in my classroom, my head begins to spin.
It was the happiest time right before the saddest time of my life.
Ma was still here. I was only a few weeks pregnant with Jimmy. We were all beside ourselves with joy. A miracle baby. We lived in different house, we drove different cars, we had different expectations of what the future would hold.
So much has changed in those mere four years...and it's gone by in the blink of an eye. Terrifying.
When I think about the next time the calendar will mark February 29th, it will be in 2020.
Wow. 2020. Seems so futuristic, doesn't it?
Seems like light years away, but the truth is, it's just around the corner. Jimmy will be 7 and almost a half...and the Mads will be turning 5. If J can do addition now, will he be working on Algebra then? (He certainly doesn't get the math gene from me)... Will M be loving Irish dance or will she prefer to swim instead? Will Mickey Mouse and Chik Fil-A still be favorites or will those loves be things of the past? Will I be in my 20th year of teaching and will Big J still be on days at the PD? Will we be lucky to have our loved ones close and in good health and not endure the pain of losing more? Will I finally have a clean car? Doubt it. Holy smokes, I just realized I will be 42 years old. F*ck.
February 29th, I love and hate you for making me reflect on all of these things.
But today, I will take a Leap of Faith, and know that the Universe has a plan for all of us... and that sometimes it's okay for a date to come and go and not get so weepy.
After all, it's just one day. And a Monday at that.
