It’s hard to believe that this was 5 years ago:
And it’s hard to believe that this was only 4 years ago:
February 13 is the day we found out that Hudson was a girl. Then, she died. And two years later on this auspicious date, we had Anson.
This delicious little bundle of human has been making me a better human ever since.
Yesterday, he wanted to go to bed around 4:45 pm so that his birthday would come sooner.
He slept poorly. He was in our room three or four times throughout the night, and I think I finally gave up on sending him back to his room around 5am, when I got up to make a “5 and lovin’ it” teeshirt for him.
He rolled into the kitchen at 5:30 am, and I sang “Happy Birthday” to him and he helped me make his birthday shirt since I hadn’t made much progress yet (first, coffee!).
He relished his birthday phone calls and videos and texts from grandpas and grandmas and aunties and uncles. He had a birthday dance party. There was joy oozing from every one of his pores.
It is incredible to believe how much a life can change in five years. We don’t think of five years in such drastic terms. We are boring old adults who MIGHT change jobs or buy a house in that time. We don’t go from NOTHING to WRITING OUR OWN NAMES AND STARTING TO READ in that time. What kind of drastic undertakings would we be capable of if we weren’t so darn comfortable? Better yet, what kind of drastic achievements could we make if we oozed joy from our pores every day.
For Anson, nearly every new thing he has tried in the past 5 years has been a necessity. Trying new foods, walking, talking, social decency, etc. What if we embraced the discomfort of trying new things because it is necessary to do so? Sure, it is not NECESSARY that we learn new skills at this stage in life, but what if we acted like it was?
I suspect that we might experience exponential growth. I suspect our worlds would be filled with connection and wonder and joy. I suspect that we might change a few lives besides our own, along the way.
And so today I am committing to living my life a little bit more like my five-year-old. I’m going to ooze joy from my pores, develop new skills because it is necessary, and seize any opportunity for a dance party.
The last five years with Anson have been the best five years of my life. And while it’s hard to imagine right now, I am convinced that the next five years will be even more life changing.
Anson's Antics 
Hi Erica,
I loved it. So much wisdom! Thank you for sharing such a precious experience and deep reflections with us.
“I suspect that we might experience exponential growth. I suspect our worlds would be filled with connection and wonder and joy. I suspect that we might change a few lives besides our own, along the way.” I am deeply touched by these words as they speak directly to what I experienced last year. 2018 was a transformational year for me, and as I wrote in my journal, it reminded me of the time I started first grade and later on went to the university.
Your question “What if we embraced the discomfort of trying new things because it is necessary to do so?” is a beautiful way to develop a growth mindset while we are discovering new dimensions of connection, wonder and joy in our lives. Thank you. You inspired me.
Maria
Such a great perspective to live with. I love how clearly I can picture Anson’s joy on his birthday. I love the benefits you outline for learning new skills later in life, but you mention that it’s not necessary, I think more and more research is showing that it is. We regularly see that when people retire and lose the mental stimulation of work they start to “age quicker.” If we can be in the habit of learning new things and challenging ourselves to be okay with being a beginner again, we’ll be better prepared for this. What a great lesson to learn, thanks for sharing!
He’s back and better than ever. We need more Anson! The word that jumped out here was comfortable. Is Anson uncomfortable when he makes the world do his bidding? (I think he’s right to think we can change time.) I started thinking about toddlers — they’ve just got on their feet, they see something on the floor, so they bend in half to get it. For us, that needs a lot of yoga or a zimmer frame. So, to flip it, are we comfortable in our everyday? Or kept in place by the fear that comes as we’re processed by the system. (Ken Robinson — TED and elsewhere; RSA animate is wonderful — is great on how education replaces curiosity with a strange bitter mix of boredom and terror.)