Today, January 21st, 2011, a person from Springfield, Mo., is apparently taking care of some unfinished business from June, 1983 — using a time machine to do it. And, the world is apparently watching and waiting for him to come back and give us the download. If you’re one of the many people out there looking for the original Craig’s List ad, here it is:
Time Machine (Springfield)
“I have a functioning time machine (i know it sounds unbelievable, but I assure you it works) that I need a 2nd person to operate with me.
I’m looking for someone who is adventurous and reliable. Preferable a male; or a female that can do heavy lifting.
I am leaving on January 20, 2011, in the morning and plan to return February 3, 2011. I am going to June 1983 to handle some business.
If you are serious about time travel and are reliable, then please contact me. You do not have to pay anything, but you would have to provide someone to watch my cat for the time we are gone. The only qualifications needed are that you are reliable and that the circumferance of your head is no more than 64cm.
We will be leaving from Springfield,Mo. Let me know if you want to go with me.”
I know it sounds a little crazy, but if someone had presented me this offer during the first few weeks at home with our first baby, I may have jumped at the chance. (Assuming, of course, that I could take care of that cat prerequisite.) Even though I thought I was prepared, I was so not prepared for the sheer magnitude of the seemingly overnight change in our lives. I wasn’t prepared for the feelings of loneliness and isolation and frustration and complete exhaustion. Afterall, I was supposed to LOVE every minute of being a new mother. We were renting a house that overlooked the house we lived in before we had kids (one we had to move out of because it wasn’t appropriate for babies or kids). And, I’ll never forget—on one particularly overwhelming day—standing on the balcony of the house, holding my newborn baby in my arms, looking down at the other house and wishing that I could somehow magically transport myself back in time to when we lived there during our kid-free days. I missed our old lives. I missed the spontaneity, and the fun, and the freedom. I missed my independence. I missed reading books. I missed sleeping. I missed coming and going with my arms free. I missed getting to use the bathroom when I needed to.
Had I had the benefit of this time machine back then, I could have just hopped on in, zipped right over to 2011, and figured out what a short blip those early newborn days are, and that it wouldn’t always be that way. Instead, I stood on that balcony and cried, my hot salty tears plopping down onto my newborn’s face.
Had I had a time machine back then, I could have figured out that eventually, those needy, fragile, all-encompassing newborns turn into kids who are fun, and funny, and vibrant. Who eventually sleep. Who are eventually out of diapers. Who fill your life with more joy and laughter and fulfillment than anything in your kid-free days ever did. So, yes! Sign me up. Because I would have realized then how much I now love being a mom. I would have realized that I would eventually even be willing to have another newborn. And another!
Still… there are days… when I would gladly sneak into the time machine for a quick little jaunt to 1999. Or, maybe a short mommy time out to the future, just to remind myself that this, too, shall pass. And that — while it may be a total cliché — the time is, truly, flying.
Then, I’d be able to get back to some unfinished business from January, 2011: making our way through the Magic Tree House series of bed time stories that we’re reading to our kids—turns out that they love the idea of time travel, too.
For the rest of you out there who might be interested in a little time travel, here’s that Craig’s List post. Be sure to come back and let us know how it goes! (And remember, ladies, lift with your legs.)
And for the kids, I highly recommend the books. Happy time traveling!