These days, the days that go too fast, that end too soon, that make me want to pause life, make me think more. Each day I drop my baby off with a kiss and head to my office for 8 hours, I realize those are 8 hours I am missing and will never get back with my child. Or my husband. Or any friend or family. It saddens me.

Our conversations at work of late have been about the mind-boggling work system. Who, and why, created a 5 day work week and only a 2 day weekend? It seems we worship our jobs, money, acknowledgement, etc. more than our families and homes. It's not true, it's just the reality of survival. Again, who came up with this system?

My child was counted in days, then weeks, then months, and now in years. He's one. He'll be one for 11 more months. Somehow counting the weeks and months made him seem smaller and stay younger longer. I don't know why that is. Now, he's a toddler. (Although he's not quite toddling yet.) I miss him during the day, I miss his smile, his laugh, his sloppy, wet kisses. I miss watching those "ah-ha" moments, trying out new sounds and words, his attempts at mastering walking. It doesn't seem fair, yet it is what it has to be right now. This sadly either makes me long to be home or long for a tiny baby again. At this time, Kevin approves neither. (Just you wait!)

I've also been realizing I've been missing Kevin. Yes, he's here, daily, nightly, picking up my slack, er laundry. But, I haven't really looked at him lately. We've fallen in that "old married couple" trap, which I despise. Mostly, because I am not old, but too because it's just boring and wrong to be in that rut. I've been remembering him and us and we've been reminding each other to still be 'us' and ourselves along with all our new roles we are now. Instead of sighing, I actually laugh at his strange humor. And praise him for changing a dirty diaper instead of telling him how to do it properly. (Even if i mutter the other parts under my breath.)

Strangely, when I say my sister's name or talk about her the image that comes to mind is that scrawny, long-haired, freckle-faced little girl with braces. (Please don't tell her I just said that.) She's not those things anymore, luckily for her. I don't always embrace change, I like to hold on to good things and good memories and keep them all tucked in close. I'm learning that you can still keep those memories and embrace change. That people grow and change, but they're still there and still them. I'm learning to slow down, to stop. That my dishes don't always have to be done, my floor might be scattered with toys, but it's better to sit amongst those toys with that blue-eyed giggler, instead of calling "I'm coming in a minute" to him from the kitchen scrubbing pans. To take a walk with Kevin and just be, instead of nagging about the garbage. It makes us all happier.

I can't stop time. I can't always stop the guilt for things I do, don't do, forget to do, or do wrong. I can make up for it. I can relax and stop expecting so much. It's not always easy, but it can be done. And I always have time to pat a cat before I leave the house...


Allisan said...

I really liked this blog!!

Mulagatawny said...

The french once had a 35 hour work week. They're changing that to 37.5 to be more competitive. My leg hurts. I like the new design. That picture of you on the old one scared me. ehhe.