“Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” I’ve heard that saying for years and just assumed it was true because it’s easy to agree that after the dust has settled it’s often simpler to announce what the best course of action should have been. However, I’ve had a few recent instances where I no longer believe the cliché can be universally applied.

A recent example involves my youngest son David. He’s six now, and just finished kindergarten. Last summer when he finished Pre-K we realized quickly that he does better with structure and having him at home with Dad most every day was a recipe for a bored youngster and a stressed parent. As winter turned to Spring and we began to plan our summer we looked at day camps and suffered from the sticker shock of how much they cost, deciding the kids could once again spend their days at home with my husband until I got home from work. On day three of our master plan, my husband called to ask, “Do you remember how we realized David has to have specific activities to be involved in?”

“Sure,” I answered, “It keeps him out of trouble.”

“Why didn’t that come up when we decided to not register him for anything?” Do you remember that sticker shock I mentioned of registering kids for day camps? It’s nothing compared to how it feels when you're faced with late registration fees for the same camps.

At work I complain when I have back to back meetings for eight hours with no breaks between them at all. Yet, when the invitations come in, I accept every one of them, never checking myself to say, “Remember the last time your calendar was this full? It didn’t end well for your chocolate stash or your attitude.”

The fact that I have three children at all is probably the greatest piece of evidence that this expression is worthless. After months of sleep deprivation, the exhaustion of trying to juggle working full time with midnight feedings, I swore after each of my children was born that I wouldn’t go through that again – I couldn’t do it. However a few short years later, my hindsight was blind. “Do you think we should have another baby?” my husband asked innocently.

“Yes, that sounds wonderful!” I replied, picturing our family with a new member being lovingly held in my arms, apparently having learned nothing the last time.

Perhaps I’m being unfair to the idiom. Maybe hindsight is perfect, it’s just I have yet to learn how to apply what was learned to current my situation.

I consider myself to be a logical person; level headed, able to weigh facts and make well informed decisions. I do it all the time at the office. I ask for historic information, I look at trends and projections for the future, I give hindsight a chance to inform the process so that only the wisest option is considered to move forward. Yet, in my personal life, I don’t seem to give decisions the same level of consideration. Maybe it’s that the scope of what would happen as the result of a poor choice is very different, or that after concentrating on considering all the facts during the day, by the time I get home I’m just going off instinct.

A greeting when I first arrive at home of, “Can I have a cookie?” is often answered with a “yes,” not a follow-up question of “Have you had any cookies today already?” Hindsight doesn’t have a chance in that situation because I don’t consult it. If I had, then I would have learned getting my kids to settle down and do their homework is much easier without a sugar rush because their dad let them have three cookies half an hour before I got there, and then the two I gave them sent them into glucose meltdowns. I should never just agree to the instant snack without checking the facts first.

Then there’s the more personal application. Hindsight has taught me that a bowl of ice cream late at night is never a good idea. The effect on the scale, not to mention blood sugar levels and cholesterol is enough to have hindsight informing me it’s always a mistake to sit down with a pint of frozen goodness. I have no self-control to stop eating until the spoon is scraping the bottom of the carton so I shouldn’t even put myself into a situation to have to deal with the aftereffects of gluttony. Yet, after a long day, especially in the dead of summer, I can almost hear the voices of Ben and Jerry calling to me from the freezer. I’ve literally pulled the lid off the carton, scooped up a spoonful and as I let it hit my tongue fussed at myself for it. “You know this is a mistake. Remember how horrible you felt last time?” Then that voice was quickly hushed by me humming in contentment as the chocolate flavor melted in my mouth.

Am I the only one like this? Does learning through hindsight allow you to not repeat the same mistakes over and over? Have you learned to integrate past lessons into current opportunities? Or is your hindsight mechanism either blind after a short widow, like a week in the case of the late night ice cream example, or completely mute like when we decided to have more children?

Maybe it’s that’s I’ve gotten to that magic place of being old enough I no longer consider everything to be a new learning opportunity so I don’t take the time to consider every element of each decision; coupled with the fact I’m not quite old enough to have lost the self-evaluation reflex where I’m critical of my own lack of control or wisdom. In typing that sentence I may have discovered my answer. I’m only irritated with my behavior because after I’ve acted, I’ve immediately learned – through hindsight – that it was the wrong move and something else would have made more sense. Then I’m doubly angry because I already knew it was wrong, and I did it anyway.

Based on this self-realization I will begin to advocate for changing the old saying to be, “Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, but if it’s ignored, foresight’s complete blind.”

And if that doesn’t make me feel better, I’ve learned it’s possible to freeze that little voice in your head telling you that you’re making a mistake. It takes copious amounts of ice cream, but the ensuing sugar rush helps you to think fast enough on your feet that you’ll be able to convince yourself this isn’t the same situation it was last time. If hindsight doesn’t apply then the possibilities are endless.

I’m going to ponder this while searching for a spoon. Don’t judge – it’s the middle of the day, not late at night, so the two situations are completely different, right?

Happy Reading!