mooncake festival
When I was 5 years old, I was adorable. Not to sound boastful, but it's true. I look at photos of myself back then, and I don't recognize that little boy. I had blond hair, blue eyes, and a winning smile. All I can think is, What the heck? I peaked in preschool? But I was 5, and like all kids that age, I didn't know what I had. In fact, I didn't want to be 5. I wanted to be 6.
Now I'm 37, and I'm rethinking things. It's not that I mind being entrenched in my thirties. It's just that, like so many people, I wonder what my hurry was in wanting to grow up. I now recognize that time is fleeting. So you'd think that when other parents see me with my daughters and encourage me to "enjoy this time; they grow up so fast," I'd agree with them.
But often, uh, no, I haven't agreed. On various occasions, I've thought to myself: Enjoy this time? I'm stuck in a revolving door, wishing I hadn't tried to bring a stroller, a baby, and a preschooler in with me. Or: Enjoy this time? I just listened to my 8-month-old scream for 45 minutes in the car, which caused my 3-year-old to shriek uncontrollably, and now I'm pretty sure there are certain decibels I'll never hear again. Or: Enjoy this time? My daughter celebrated her first birthday with the flu. She threw up on me 19 times, became dehydrated, and we ended up spending the night in the ER.
All true stories, by the way. My point is, if there's a more clichéd statement than "They grow up so fast," I don't know what it is.
Because while kids may grow up fast in the big scheme of things, it's impossible to see that when you're experiencing their first year or two. Seriously, when you're living in the same house as a baby, time moves more slowly. If Albert Einstein hadn't been fooling around with such malarkey as the speed of light and his space-time continuum theory, he would have stumbled onto the same phenomenon I have.
Do the math. During my daughter Isabelle's first year on the planet, she didn't have much of an
Now I'm 37, and I'm rethinking things. It's not that I mind being entrenched in my thirties. It's just that, like so many people, I wonder what my hurry was in wanting to grow up. I now recognize that time is fleeting. So you'd think that when other parents see me with my daughters and encourage me to "enjoy this time; they grow up so fast," I'd agree with them.
But often, uh, no, I haven't agreed. On various occasions, I've thought to myself: Enjoy this time? I'm stuck in a revolving door, wishing I hadn't tried to bring a stroller, a baby, and a preschooler in with me. Or: Enjoy this time? I just listened to my 8-month-old scream for 45 minutes in the car, which caused my 3-year-old to shriek uncontrollably, and now I'm pretty sure there are certain decibels I'll never hear again. Or: Enjoy this time? My daughter celebrated her first birthday with the flu. She threw up on me 19 times, became dehydrated, and we ended up spending the night in the ER.
All true stories, by the way. My point is, if there's a more clichéd statement than "They grow up so fast," I don't know what it is.
Because while kids may grow up fast in the big scheme of things, it's impossible to see that when you're experiencing their first year or two. Seriously, when you're living in the same house as a baby, time moves more slowly. If Albert Einstein hadn't been fooling around with such malarkey as the speed of light and his space-time continuum theory, he would have stumbled onto the same phenomenon I have.
Do the math. During my daughter Isabelle's first year on the planet, she didn't have much of an