Lately, I feel as if time is flying by. Going at warp speed. Days, weeks, sometimes even months seem to come and go. I am reminded of what an acquaintance said to me at a PSU event a couple of years ago about having a child: "The first 12 years don't go so fast. But the next 12 years fly by." Those were not his exact words, and I don't recall the number of years he was referring to. But his point was that once your kid is a teen (or thereabouts), watch out.
I have really noticed it the past year. I sometimes look at my kid, who is now almost 5'3" and in 7th grade, and I wonder how she became this preteen. Where is the little girl who begged me to play Barbies and babies with her all the time? Where is the girl whom I had to check her homework every night? Where is the girl that I had to help dress, give a bath to, brush her hair, etc. Where is my little preschooler who would say, "This is my best friend mommy"?
Now, I apparently know next to nothing. J certainly reminds of how I "must be deaf" pretty often. I am no longer her go-to person when she is not sure what to wear. The vast majority of the time she would rather play on her ipad and text her friends.
I get why people have several kids. I still regret, pretty much weekly, that I had just one. But it is becoming more and more obvious why people keep procreating. When I saw young kids in Home Depot today building something for the kid's workshop, I thought, my child will never do that again. I had to walk away, I was so sad.
My child will never be excited for Santa or the Easter Bunny the way she was for so many year.
This year was the first year we did not go the pumpkin patch. I hate it!
Time, please slow down. And if you wanted to dial back a few years, that would be fine by me.