They say that having kids makes the days pass slowly and the years pass quickly. But I feel like it’s all so fast. All of it, every second every minute every day.
He is like the river you never step in twice. Every day he is a different person, dynamic in the sense that it’s always moving forward, forward, forward. Who he is today is different from who he was yesterday and who he was yesterday I will never see again. Every day is birth and death.
He is seven months old and already his things are retired at regular intervals. He started growing out of clothes after just a couple of months- the ones I liked and the ones associated with memories (all of them) are stuffed in a bag in the closet. He figured out how to escape the infant car seat at five months so it went to the garage. He weaned himself off pacifiers after six months; they sit in a baggie in the drawer. These daily necessities are now are packed up and put away, items of his growth, movement, and learning. Every new tooth is heartbreak.
I was used to time passing in a certain way at a certain speed, but having a child has changed it all and I’m still getting used to it. Will it ever stop surprising me? And it has made me see now that time passes differently for different objects: a day in my life is different from a day in baby’s life is different from a day in our cat’s life is different from a day in our house’s life. I think of these things here, in our house with our baby and our cat.
If you’re still with me, just wait until next time when I talk about mortality proper (this was just the metaphor).