Time takes on an ethereal quality as a parent.
It never feels exactly what it is. A moment can feel like the
better part of an hour, while an hour feels like a few seconds. And
most days, it is the one thing I cannot get enough of: time.
Time takes on an ethereal quality as a parent.
It never feels exactly what it is. A moment can feel like the better part of an hour, while an hour feels like a few seconds. And most days, it is the one thing I cannot get enough of: time.
Most instances, I feel like I’m operating on an alternative plane where the clock, as the rest of the world knows it, has no bearing on my life. My body clock is ruled by my daughter, Emma, who celebrated her 3-month birthday Monday.
The problem is Emma’s clock ticks seamlessly while mine jerks, skips and sometimes spins uncontrollably. I suspect it could use a fresh battery.
Then suddenly, with little warning, last Saturday happened. It’s funny; daylight savings time never affected me before this year. Perhaps I can blame turning 30 and having a baby as to why springing an hour forward has left me reeling.
I can’t get to bed before midnight. And I find myself snatching moments of sleep whenever I can get the chance. Monday morning I was still loopy, dozing on our couch at 10 in the morning while our daughter nursed.
Then in other instances, time drags and threatens to come to a standstill. Like when I’m trying to lull our little one to sleep. I rub her back for a long time. By my feet and back’s estimation I would guess an hour has passed when in reality only 15 minutes have ticked by. After the fourth unsuccessful time of soothing Emma to sleep, time is no longer my friend.
In other instances, it’s my biggest challenge. While our little one sleeps, I’m racing against it, trying to pack in as much as I can in five minutes or a half hour before she wakes up.
I’ve gotten pretty good at the game. Last weekend I was able to make a break for it to the coffee shop, the book store, the drycleaners and nearly the grocery store when I got the call.
It’s the call every Mom dreads when she’s enjoying a few moments alone with herself. It’s the cell phone call. Sometimes it’s just your significant other asking where the Desitin or the spare bibs are. Other times, it’s to ask you if you’re having fun and when you’ll be home.
This particular time it happened to be my husband saying our daughter had just declared it lunch time. Since I’m the lunch “supplier,” that meant my foray out of the house had come to a close. So, I abandoned my shopping basket that I had just filled with grapes, eggs and tortillas and raced home.
During other times, Emma consumes my world and time swishes forward without my being aware.
I’ll be singing to Emma and acting goofy and suddenly her whole face lights up as she smiles. In that second my world is complete. I wish I could bottle that moment and savor it always.
The other day at a stoplight, I reminded myself that I had graduated from college nine years ago. I don’t know what made me think of that. My thought patterns are sometimes too complex for even me to follow. But there it was.
How was that possible?
It’s amazing how much has happened during that time. When I stop and think about the circuitous twist of events it seems as if many more years must have passed. How is it possible that I’m accepting a college diploma one year and then in the blink of an eye, holding our daughter the next?
Time is indeed a funny thing. It’s one of the few constants in our lives. It can’t be managed or controlled, no matter how hard we try. We can’t rewind it or fast forward it. Things will happen when they are good and ready.
I think I have to learn that I can’t fight time. It will continue to pass on its own terms. Our lives will shift visibly and invisibly. I just hope that I pay well enough attention to be present for the moments that truly matter.
