I realized yesterday ‘the other day’ was actually about 6, make that 7 months ago.
And, this is coming from a girl who breaks her schedule into minutes of the day.
I know 19 is the number of minutes it takes to put clothes AND shoes on John Michael, get him out the door with at least one trip up the stairs for when I forget something.
I know 7 is the absolute fewest number of minutes I can make it from my house to work.
I know 14 seconds is the perfect amount of time to microwave John Michael's tiny little chopped veggies without having to let them cool.
Sometimes, evil disrupts my mental time clock, like yesterday, when I realized the clothes I already put on for work [at the precise time allotted] really needed to be steamed. That's when I end up doing things like spraying the clothes...already on my body...with wrinkle releaser. (Also, what is ironing?)
But today, was one of those lovely parenting days where I was painfully aware of the minutes on the clock. John Michael can't decide if he's ready to drop one of his two daily naps. So today was a 'trial and error' day, much like EVERY day of parenting. It consisted of a lot of crying, pouting, screaming, (John Michael, too) futile attempts to change his mood, and me second guessing what the hell I was doing with my life. To top it off, he nearly choked on a mandarin orange. (I NEED him to stop shoveling in food without chewing like he's Joey Chestnut)
But, then, that tiny human who's just started to figure out how to walk forgot about his grouchy mood for 5 minutes before bed--long enough to walk around with his lion walker, and remind me how adorable he is. And, how fast the time goes. And, all of that crap that keeps parents procreating.
And, then I started to get sad thinking about this day, because I know he's only in this stage for such a short time, and today wasn't going in the memory bank of beautiful moments.
Then, I started thinking about one of my favorite subjects....mom guilt. So, let's get this straight...I was sad because John Michael was sad and this is one less day of the handful of days on my ever-ticking clock of short childhood memories.
And, you know why I felt that way? Because everyone at every stage is reminding me HOW FAST IT GOES. If one more person tells me, 'Enjoy it. It goes SO fast.' I'm going to need a Zoloft prescription. I'M ALREADY PAINFULLY AWARE OF HOW FAST IT GOES. I'm already nostalgic about moments that happened four minutes ago. Hell, I'm sad about moments that are ABOUT to happen. Any waking moment I'm NOT focusing on 'being more present,' I can be found swiping left through my iPhone photo album of perfect baby memories faster than a college student on Tinder.
It's like the last day of a long vacation...you're having the greatest time, but you can't even properly enjoy it because you know it's going to be over.
Wait, but you're in the Bahamas? On a beach? Why are you sad again? Because eventually the Bahamas will be a memory?
Parents, grandparents, future parents, past parents, friends of parents, can we all start giving parents with small children a break? We know it's going fast. We know we will miss (most) of these days and (most) of these stages. But, stressing out about how to BEST soak in every moment and worrying we may not be FULLY aware of how short it is, isn't slowing the clock.
Instead of going to that 'small talk' place of 'it goes soooo fast,' might I suggest 'Nassau sure is beautiful this time of year'
And, yeah, I know. When I'm old and gray, I'll look back on this blog, and probably say...those keys still haven't turned up. I just lost them the other day...
luara i promise the keys are the last place you left themReplyDelete
Turns out. They were. In my golf bag. I found them at the beach this summer. 😂 it’s 2021.Delete