Time

Yesterday my youngest daughter was sitting at the kitchen island eating some unripe, unsatisfying piece of fruit (not an uncommon occurrence in winter) and she said, "I can't wait until peach season."

I gave her a dirty look and said, "Don't say things like that."

Do I have something against peaches?  No.   I love a good ripe, juicy, sun-kissed peach as much as anyone else.

Right now my real beef is with time.   It's passing way too quickly.   If all goes according to plan, at the end of this summer, we will be packing up our oldest daughter and sending her to college.   Peach season, in these parts, is in August.

I'm in no big rush for peaches.

1997

It's January of 1997 and I am five months pregnant with my oldest daughter.   I can't wait for her to be born.   I look at "What to Expect When you are Expecting" about five times a day.  She has grown from the size of a lentil, to a lima bean, to a grapefruit, to a melon (I don't think they ever compared her to a peach).  Why is time going soooo slow??   My husband and I go to the movies and see a preview of a new move coming out in May.   My daughter is due in May.   I am so excited because the showing of this preview must mean that the movie release is imminent.   May is soon.  The movie studios have told me so.

Unfortunately, the few months between January and May seem to drag forever!  The couple weeks before her due date are unbearably slow and the week AFTER her due date, when she has still failed to make an appearance, seems interminable.

1998

I have just found out that I am pregnant with my second child.  I am terrified.   My oldest takes every second of every waking hour and I can't help but think, "How the hell am I going to do this with two kids?  I don't have any more time!"    One day I express my concern to an older, wiser mom who tells me with great assurance, "There are 24 hours in a day.   No more.  No less.  You do the best you can, that's all you can do.   It doesn't matter how many kids you have, the number of hours in day doesn't change."   Unlike my first pregnancy that seemed to take forever, this one flies by at the speed of light.   Before I know it I am the mother of two.

2000

I have a three year old and a one year old.  They are both sick.  They have fevers.  They won't sleep.  The baby just cries incessantly.  I am spending my day cleaning all different types of bodily fluids and I'm not feeling so hot myself.    I call my husband at work for the 13th time and ask him yet again, "When are you coming home?"  and he says, "The usual time.  I'll be home at 6."   The day has already felt like forever, and when I look at the clock, I see that it is only 9 a.m.   How will I survive until 6?

2002-2010

I would like to refer to these years as the "sweet spot" of parenting.   The kids are in school.  They are old enough to do things for themselves, yet still young enough that they want to do things with us.    They are the years of pumpkin and apple picking, birthday parties and sleepovers, trying new sports, learning to dance and sing.   Our calendar is full of activities, mostly fun activities, and we don't even seem to notice as fall turns to winter and winter turns to spring.   There is always something to do, to look forward to, and as we carelessly, thoughtlessly flip the calendar from month to month, it seems like it will stay like this forever.

2011

I am not really sure when the realization first hit me.  I'm pretty sure it was just before my oldest daughter went to high school, but I can't pinpoint the moment.   All I know is that at some point, some kid I knew, some kid I watched grow up, was going to graduate from high school.   How did this happen?  When did this happen?

Suddenly I went from my blissful ignorance of the passage of time, to complete panic mode.   This is going to happen to us too, isn't it?    Let's stop turning the calendar.  Let's stop doing anything.   Maybe if we stop in our tracks, time will stop with us.

2014 - Fall

My daughter is a senior but we are too busy to think about it very much.  There are colleges to visit, applications to fill out, tests to take, etc.  There are lots and lots of arguments,  Is this college too much of a reach?  Did you finish that essay?   Do they give good financial aid?  Did you finish your homework?  Did you look at this college?  Do you want to go to college?  Do you want to take a year off?  Some people say that the whole college application process, and all it's bureaucracy, was created so that parents and children would both be relieved to part company when it was all over.    It is not an easy time to get through, but when that last application is submitted, and the dust settles, we realize that the entire autumn has passed, the trees are bare, and we didn't even take the time to notice as each leaf, and eventually every leaf, fell.   Half the school year is suddenly over.  Wait, really?

2015

It is here.  There is no stopping it.  There are only 24 hours in a day.  That is it, no more or less.  Time is not particular.  It doesn't rush through the trying parts of life, nor does it stop and let us savor some of our favorite moments.  It just keeps going.

Even so,

I don't want to go to the movies and see a preview for a movie coming out in May, or August, or even, perish the thought, September.

And I most definitely am not looking forward to eating a perfectly ripe, freshly picked, juices dripping down your arm peach.