This month is rushing by faster than I can keep up with. Again. Still. I feel like I’ve been saying this all year. Every month I find myself writing, “Where did this month go? How is it over already?” Every day I look at my children and think “When did they get so big?”
When did her limbs get so long? How long has he been this tall? When did she learn to count this high? When did his vocabulary get so big? How do they keep on growing, faster than I can keep up with? Why didn’t I savor this moment longer and linger in these precious days?
My babies are getting bigger every day but they are also still pretty young, too, I suppose. Four and seven. It seems like just yesterday they were both being born, but I’ve been doing this parenting thing for almost eight years now so even though I still feel like a total newbie, I’m sort of an old pro.
Except in comparison to all those mothers of middle schoolers, teenagers or adults. To them, I’m sure, I ain’t seen nothing yet. I’ll be them someday though. In the blink of an eye they will be grown and gone, tweens then teens then adults and someday hopefully parents of their own small broods. I have lots of time left and no time at all.
The days are long and the years are short. It’s a cliche but it’s so true in these days that seem to drag on forever until I blink and it’s been weeks or months or years – these weeping angel days where time stops feeling linear and starts feeling wibbly wobbly… Fleeting. Rushed. Exhausting. Exhilarating.
(yes, I’m a nerd, shut up)