Tempus Fugit

"Tempus fugit" is a latin phrase meaning "time flees." And, indeed, it does. As I have mentioned before, I have a little boy. For the sake of privacy, we shall call him Lewis. Within the next month, he will be turning one year old.

How did this happen?!

Every time we celebrate a new year, I marvel at how quickly time passes. Normally, I would move on with my life and not consider it again until the next new year. That changed when I became a mother. All of the sudden, I am very aware of every passing day, week, and month. Lewis is like a tangible example of how fast our lives pass by. It seems like only yesterday I was holding him in my arms and wondering if I was ready to be a parent. Well, I STILL wonder if I'm ready to be a parent, but he rarely lets me hold him anymore. He wants to crawl and learn to walk, he wants to explore the world around him and tell me about it (in his own little language, of course). I look at Lewis and I realize that he has somehow become a little person, rather than a baby.

Sometimes I find myself wishing that I was in a different stage of life, or that I could re-live a past experience. Raising Lewis has taught me the importance of truly living in the moment. When he was younger I wanted him to be older, and now that he's older I wish I had enjoyed his younger months more. Every day is a gift (whether you have children or not), and it should not simply pass by without notice. That doesn't mean that we have to go out and fill our hours with mind-blowing experiences. In fact, I find that the opposite is true. 

I could take Lewis out to the zoo and to the library and to the park and to the aquarium, and I'm sure he'd be entertained (and exhausted). However, the real moments that I treasure are the ones that appear to be ordinary. There is nothing I love more than seeing his happy face when I go to get him out of his crib in the morning. I love seeing his excitement when he takes a few steps on his own, and how good it makes him feel when I cheer him on. I love it when he sits on my lap and I read books to him (one of the few exceptions to his "always wiggle" rule). I even treasure the times when he is sad or hurt and he turns to me for comfort.

Someday, he won't have time to sit and read with me. He won't need me to "kiss his owie better." And if this last year is any indicator of how the future will be, that day is fast approaching. I am determined not to squander anymore time. I want to value each day (each hour) for the gift that it is. I would much rather change a diaper than lose the opportunity to tickle the feet of my squirmy little boy. Time flees, my friends. Let us all make the most of it.