“Enjoy these moments,” a woman in line at Target advised me. “Time flies.”
It’s a phrase I’ve heard often. “Before you know it, they’ll be teenagers.” “One day, you’ll wake up, and they’ll be getting married.” If I had a burrito for every time I’ve encountered this sentiment, I’d be stuffed and likely regretting my choices. If you’re a parent, you’ve probably experienced similar remarks.
For a long while, these sayings made me want to react negatively. Often, they come at the most inconvenient times: when I’m knee-deep in my to-do list, with my 15-month-old finally entertained in the shopping cart, munching on a cracker I grabbed as a distraction from the enticing owl mug display.
Sometimes, they appear when I’m clearly frazzled, hair a mess and mismatched socks, juggling a 23-pound child while trying to exit a store. These comments often come after my struggles, almost as if they think their “you’ll miss it when it’s gone” platitudes will uplift my spirits. In those moments, I’ve felt an urge to respond sharply: “Are you suggesting that I’m not fully cherishing every precious second with my child?” Instead, I would muster a quick, polite smile and offer a vague, “Oh, absolutely!” before darting to the car, trying to avoid an impending meltdown.
However, I’ve come to realize that such comments are less about me and more about the person offering them.
Tonight, while snuggling with my now 19-month-old daughter, I listened as she cheerfully said goodnight to a series of toys: “Night night Elmo; night night Abby; night night Dada…” The past few days have been filled with an explosion of language and emotion. Each day brings at least three new words, and she eagerly requests the alphabet. Her ability to form multi-word phrases is astonishing.
Yet, parenting isn’t just about these joyful milestones; it’s also filled with challenges. I remember those early days of breastfeeding, the seemingly endless witching hour, postpartum anxiety, and the weight of mom guilt. And now, tantrums. It’s tough. But I see how all of it—the good and the bad—has unfolded in the blink of an eye.
It feels like I’m on a roller coaster, bracing for the next drop while simultaneously dreading it. Everyone’s right; time really does fly.
Just moments ago, I endured the most challenging 36 hours of labor, only to see my baby girl, initially blue and limp, whisked away and suctioned until she finally cried. I can still feel the overwhelming joy of having her placed on my chest, skin pink and perfect after that rocky start. Didn’t that just happen seconds ago?
That woman in Target is recalling her own experiences as she observes my little one. She’s reflecting on her journey, the early moments, the struggles, and the joys. She’s perhaps thinking of her own child, who is no longer a baby, and wishing she had appreciated those fleeting days more.
So next time someone tells me, “Before you know it, she’ll be driving! Savor every moment,” I’ll respond with a genuine smile and say, “Thank you, I truly will.”
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In summary, the journey of motherhood is a whirlwind of emotions, fleeting moments, and profound joys, all of which pass by in an instant.