Fast-Forward Family

Will the big invisible finger pushing the fast-forward button of our lives please step off?

I’m serious. I’m getting irritable.

When did this happen? Is anyone else hearing me on this? Four days ago, we brought Ana home from the hospital and Marc stood in her nursery in the wee hours, listening to her weep hysterically and ticking off all the reasons why she shouldn’t be crying.

“She’s not hungry because she just ate. She’s not cold because I just smooshed that little knit cap on her head. And she’s not wet because we just changed her diaper. So she must be tired and we just need to let her cry it out.”

Ana was barely out of the womb. But I married a physics major, so, we deal a lot with logic around here.

Then two days later, Mitch came home from the hospital and during his first at-home diaper change, he peed in an arc, right into his own eyeball. Ana was beside herself with grief. “WHY WOULD HE DO THAT?”

Then the day after that, Thea came home and now….she’s five and turns a respectable cartwheel and can make her own bed, including decorative pillows. We’re all really old and I don’t remember how it happened.

What gives?

My aunt, Michele, warned me about this. When our kids were tiny and needy and sapping me of all the energy it took to apply lip gloss, Aunt Michele warned me that life with children really did move at terrifyingly high speeds. She and Uncle Doug have four boys and while I marveled at her ability to live in house with all that misplaced urine, I did not believe her when she said life speeds up with kids. That very morning, for example, I had counted the minutes until nap time.

But Aunt Michele, you were absolutely correct. Sorry I doubted. The minutes seem to skip directly to years, and I shake my head at the speed. Go kiss those children of yours, dear ones. Tiny kids, huge kids, sweaty kids, surly kids. Fast-forward gets faster every year.

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