I bought Mamma Zen over the weekend and just this morning read a chapter on time, reflecting on the artificial demarkations of time (for example, day v. night, which cease to exist with someone whose stomach can only hold four oz).
As I later dozed with my husband for a few minutes before going to work, I thought about how, when I was a kid, time moved sooooooooooooo sloooooooooooooowly. Remember that? EVERYTHING took FOREVER. It obviously didn’t, but given the amount of things that were changing in my growing person’s life and the artificial demarcations and milestones (walk, ride a bike, get braces off, move into dorm) even a day between those things seems like a long time.
I’ll have a new Wee One in a few months, and I wonder if it’s going to be like that again, when time moves slowly because of the artificial demarcations and milestones. (Change a diaper successfully, go in public, sleep through night.)
I know: “It all goes so fast.” I believe that, too, as I sit here approaching my third trimester. But I wonder if, when I look back, the time of my youth and the Wee One’s youth will look like verdant islands of slowed down time and the intervening years of fuzzy not-youth will look like the small slice of blue separating them.