The Days are Long, but the Years are Short
Time is a funny thing.
I haven’t cracked the code, but I’m certain it travels at a different speed during different seasons of life. As a kid, I would wish it away. I was in an endless hurry to “grow up,” and yet time seemed to be the tortoise back then.
As I grew, I began to recognize the passing of time from a different perspective. Life’s milestones were coming and going. Kids I used to babysit were suddenly adults themselves.
And then I became a mom.
October 5th, 2014 - the day time began playing tricks on me.
Suddenly this time warp known as parenthood pulled me in, and I was consumed by diapers, and feedings, and tiny clothes, and shrill cries at ungodly hours of the night. These days felt as though they lasted for weeks. They were full of mountains of laundry, coffee cups forgotten in the microwave after the fifth reheat, and unwashed hair. It was a season of no makeup, under the guise of going for a more natural look. (To the initiated, it was the sheer lack of energy or interest in one’s own appearance.)
It was the era of a gigantic diaper bag packed to the brim, and ready for some kind of apocalyptic event: diaper cream, extra strength diaper cream, tiny nail clippers, 3 extra changes of clothes (including one for mom), snacks, 373 diapers, wipes, boogie wipes, hand sanitizer, pacifiers, sippy cups, toys, and a bottomless pit full of crumbs and playground sand.
These were some of the greatest days of my life.
Those are the moments my heart aches for in the quiet hours while my kids are at school. Because that’s how this whole time warp works. That diaper bag was sitting by the front door, ready for a park playdate just yesterday. But, yesterday was actually years ago.
My youngest son and I found two leather play mats tucked away in our dining room the other day. I rolled them out on the table so we could work on our art project (the only upside of being stuck at home with Hand, Foot, and Mouth is the crafty time and the cuddles). As I laid out these forgotten, but very beloved mats, a flood of memories filled my mind and heart. Homemade playdough from our favorite recipe, taped to the inside of the pantry. Finger painting on a rainy day. Handmade gifts for every holiday and birthday, including our annual Christmas ornament craft. The slime era. Decorating cookies for the first responders after the 2017 fires.
Those tiny fingerprints smashed into the playdough. The paint smearing off the page, leaving its mark on the soft leather mat. I can still see it. I can feel it. I swear it was just yesterday.