The Years Are Short

Last week, I took the Cam Man to his pediatrician for his eighteen-month checkup.  Two things happened while we were in the exam room:  1.) I learned that Camster is huge.  He's taller than your average two-year old!  (McHubby has dreams of Cam playing pro ball, starring on an NBA team, and retiring us early!)  And 2.) Cam's doctor slapped me in the face.

Okay, not literally slapped me in the face.  Let me explain.

At the conclusion of the checkup, and after going through the list of immunizations Cam was about to receive, Dr. Super Cool said to me (and I MUST call her that because her skirts are very bohemian, her jewelry is always funky, she sports leopard print frames, and she's reeeeaallly smart):  "You'll want to schedule Camren's two-year old checkup before you leave today.  After that, I'll only need to see him once a year."

What?

I just sat there.

"Wow," I said, "wow."  (Articulate, right?  I mean, that's all I could say.)

Dr. Super Cool smiled and pushed those awesome frames up to the bridge of her nose.  She said, "I know.  Can you believe it?  He's quickly growing up.  I no longer need to see him for well-child checkups every three months.  Your Camren isn't a baby anymore."

See?  See?  Slap in the face!

I have to admit I was a little glum for the remainder of the day.  As I looked at my lovable, chunky boy, I thought, "What happened to my baby?!  What  happened to the baby boy I would rock and rock and rock to sleep at night?  Was he ever an infant?  So small?  So fresh from heaven?"

Time does pass quickly, and babies do grow up fast.

In her book, The Happiness Project, Gretchen Rubin (mother of two) writes:  "Today I'm pushing Eleanor in a stroller; one day she'll be pushing me in a wheelchair...Each day, each phase of life seems long, but the years pass so quickly; I want to appreciate the present time, the seasons, this time of life...The days are long, but the years are short."

We do have long days as mothers; days filled with laundry, cooking, vacuuming, grocery shopping, driving children to school, mopping, sweeping, kissing boo-boos, picking up toys, arranging play dates, drying tears, chasing toddlers.  It can be monotonous.  It can be hard.  It can be exhausting.

And then, in a blink of an eye, our babies are grown-ups. 

I want to make more of an effort to enjoy every ordinary day; every small and seemingly insignificant moment.  One day I won't have toys to pick up off of the stairs.  I won't have tiny socks to tuck into dresser drawers.  I won't have sticky hands to hold.

The years are short, indeed.