Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Where the Time Goes

just the usual

It's November already, and I'm tempted to say, "Where does the time go?" But I know where it went. It went to ten days of the most annoying cold, during which I lost my voice and couldn't get my children's attention without excessive gesticulation. (This is completely exhausting, in case you were wondering, as if the exhaustion that comes with a cold isn't enough already.) It went to Halloween costumes and trick-or-treating. It went to writing a chapter for a book. It went to the never-ending tasks of laundry and dishes and feeding my children.

I look at both of my girls, getting so tall. E has lost her baby face, and Z is nearly in adult sized shoes. E is now just a bit older than Z was when she first joined our family, and it makes it all the more pressing to try to squeeze every last drop of sweetness out of her young childhood. I know how fast the years between age three and age eight go. They go whooshing by in a haze of lingering malapropisms and learning to read and having very strong opinions about footwear.

And then for me, well, I turn forty at the end of this month, and it seems surreal. It's not a negative, it's just that the past ten years have gone by so quickly. So I am trying to be intentional about taking the time to notice the here and now.

I am looking at my children and recognizing that they will not be as they are for long, and that while I will love the changes in them, I will miss their small selves as well. I am relishing the way E curls up on top of me and grasps my arm to fall asleep. I am treasuring the way that Z still reaches for my hand instinctively when we are walking somewhere together.

I am noticing, too, the things about myself and my own life which are good. I truly enjoy what I do in the day to day. I'm much more relaxed about my body shape and size than I ever have been before. I am figuring out some things which eluded me for most of my adolescence and adulthood. Life feels good right now. There may be big dreams that I'm dreaming for the future, but I don't need that future to arrive right now.

It will arrive, though. My children will turn into teenagers, and rumor has it that someday I'll turn fifty. I'll likely miss some things about this time of life and be glad that others are over. But for now, I am content. And if the time is going into contentment? Well, then that's just right.

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