I Blinked…
in Giggles on February 12, 2025
“Inside every older person is a younger person—wondering what the hell happened.” –Cora Harvey Armstrong
Wow.
It’s been a hot minute since I sat down at my desk to write something.
I don’t understand where the time goes. The other night, Jeff and I were having dinner with some friends and casually discussing an upcoming birthday. We all, at some point in time, have joked and/or lied about our age. Our friend was no different.
As we sat around the dinner table, jokes were made about his disbelief over the actual number of years he would soon be celebrating. We all had a good laugh, because the number he announced was off by a solid decade.
While I laughed at his proclamation, my thoughts immediately turned inward…and my eyes filled up with tears.
Both men at the table simply gawked at me.
I blotted my eyes, and said grimly, “I’m going to be forty-nine this year.”
Forty-NINE.
Almost fifty.
Sniffle.
How did a half of a century creep up on me? I was twenty-five yesterday.
Life has a way of sneaking up on us. We get so busy being busy, that we lose track of the time. It’s easy to do. When my kids were little (babies and toddlers) my days consisted of just trying to make it from sun up to bedtime without loss of life or sacrificing too much of my sanity. I made sure everyone ate, had clean clothes and monitored the sibling battles carefully to ensure those battles did not morph into all-out wars.
Then came elementary school, middle school and high school. Each stage brought a different level of busy into my days. I had to learn, on the fly, how to navigate middle school girl relationships and the hierarchy of social circles. I was reminded in full technicolor how a high school heartbreak feels. I had to learn how to release my grip on the plates I’d been carefully spinning for years…and watch my children try to take over that task. I had to learn how to stand idly by when they dropped their plates.
And through all of that, I never once realized that time wasn’t simply passing—it was FLYING by. How is that even possible? How can you be too busy to grasp that you are busying yourself right through the years?
It’s a mystery.
The not-so-subtle fact that I was unmistakably entering into a new season of life smacked me right in the face two years ago when my oldest son got married. Nothing, absolutely nothing screams “YOU’RE OLDER THAN YOU THINK” quite like a wedding.
Eighteen months later, my baby had his own baby.
Once again, I had to wonder, how did this happen? How did I end up here so soon? I remember each of the days that my babies were born. How can they be having their own babies?
Now, my daughter is getting married. The excitement surrounding a wedding is distracting, to say the least. But, not distracting enough to mask the whooshing sound ringing in my ears of time speeding along.
I vividly remember an older lady at church telling me as I struggled with two wiggling and fussing toddlers and bouncing a hungry newborn in my church pew, “The days move slow, but the years move fast.” I could not think of a more ridiculous thing to say to me at that moment. I wasn’t even remotely thinking about anything further in the future than making it through the church service without causing a scene so impressive as to have the pastor stop his sermon. How was telling me about days and years supposed to help me in that moment? If she really wanted to help me, why didn’t she grab one of my kids?
Oof.
I blinked, and she was right.
Today, I am almost as busy as I was when I was corralling littles. Almost. I am a different kind of busy. I am no longer negotiating with pint-sized dictators or fighting my way through fourth grade word problems. I’m not concerned with science projects or baseball practices. Today, I am learning that there are vastly different capacities in which my “baby adults” need me.
I drive to New Mexico and back about once a month to see that precious grandbaby (and my son and daughter-in-love). I am helping my daughter plan her wedding. I try and guide my youngest down paths of recipes and college decisions. I can’t forget that though all of this, I am first and foremost, still a wife. Jeff and I are thoroughly enjoying spending uninterrupted time with each other—although—truth be told, we swear these kids have some sort of tracker on us. Every time we get snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie or the latest episode of Landman, at least two out of the three call us. It’s utterly bizarre…and sweet.
So. Where are you today? Are you in the trenches? Are you wading through a sea of dirty diapers, empty bottles and lost pacifiers? Or are you sitting in the pickup line waiting on pins and needles to see which version of your teenage daughter will climb into the backseat? Whatever the stage, wherever you are, please hear me when I tell you:
Don’t blink.
I Blinked…
in Giggles on February 12, 2025
“Inside every older person is a younger person—wondering what the hell happened.” –Cora Harvey Armstrong
Wow.
It’s been a hot minute since I sat down at my desk to write something.
I don’t understand where the time goes. The other night, Jeff and I were having dinner with some friends and casually discussing an upcoming birthday. We all, at some point in time, have joked and/or lied about our age. Our friend was no different.
As we sat around the dinner table, jokes were made about his disbelief over the actual number of years he would soon be celebrating. We all had a good laugh, because the number he announced was off by a solid decade.
While I laughed at his proclamation, my thoughts immediately turned inward…and my eyes filled up with tears.
Both men at the table simply gawked at me.
I blotted my eyes, and said grimly, “I’m going to be forty-nine this year.”
Forty-NINE.
Almost fifty.
Sniffle.
How did a half of a century creep up on me? I was twenty-five yesterday.
Life has a way of sneaking up on us. We get so busy being busy, that we lose track of the time. It’s easy to do. When my kids were little (babies and toddlers) my days consisted of just trying to make it from sun up to bedtime without loss of life or sacrificing too much of my sanity. I made sure everyone ate, had clean clothes and monitored the sibling battles carefully to ensure those battles did not morph into all-out wars.
Then came elementary school, middle school and high school. Each stage brought a different level of busy into my days. I had to learn, on the fly, how to navigate middle school girl relationships and the hierarchy of social circles. I was reminded in full technicolor how a high school heartbreak feels. I had to learn how to release my grip on the plates I’d been carefully spinning for years…and watch my children try to take over that task. I had to learn how to stand idly by when they dropped their plates.
And through all of that, I never once realized that time wasn’t simply passing—it was FLYING by. How is that even possible? How can you be too busy to grasp that you are busying yourself right through the years?
It’s a mystery.
The not-so-subtle fact that I was unmistakably entering into a new season of life smacked me right in the face two years ago when my oldest son got married. Nothing, absolutely nothing screams “YOU’RE OLDER THAN YOU THINK” quite like a wedding.
Eighteen months later, my baby had his own baby.
Once again, I had to wonder, how did this happen? How did I end up here so soon? I remember each of the days that my babies were born. How can they be having their own babies?
Now, my daughter is getting married. The excitement surrounding a wedding is distracting, to say the least. But, not distracting enough to mask the whooshing sound ringing in my ears of time speeding along.
I vividly remember an older lady at church telling me as I struggled with two wiggling and fussing toddlers and bouncing a hungry newborn in my church pew, “The days move slow, but the years move fast.” I could not think of a more ridiculous thing to say to me at that moment. I wasn’t even remotely thinking about anything further in the future than making it through the church service without causing a scene so impressive as to have the pastor stop his sermon. How was telling me about days and years supposed to help me in that moment? If she really wanted to help me, why didn’t she grab one of my kids?
Oof.
I blinked, and she was right.
Today, I am almost as busy as I was when I was corralling littles. Almost. I am a different kind of busy. I am no longer negotiating with pint-sized dictators or fighting my way through fourth grade word problems. I’m not concerned with science projects or baseball practices. Today, I am learning that there are vastly different capacities in which my “baby adults” need me.
I drive to New Mexico and back about once a month to see that precious grandbaby (and my son and daughter-in-love). I am helping my daughter plan her wedding. I try and guide my youngest down paths of recipes and college decisions. I can’t forget that though all of this, I am first and foremost, still a wife. Jeff and I are thoroughly enjoying spending uninterrupted time with each other—although—truth be told, we swear these kids have some sort of tracker on us. Every time we get snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie or the latest episode of Landman, at least two out of the three call us. It’s utterly bizarre…and sweet.
So. Where are you today? Are you in the trenches? Are you wading through a sea of dirty diapers, empty bottles and lost pacifiers? Or are you sitting in the pickup line waiting on pins and needles to see which version of your teenage daughter will climb into the backseat? Whatever the stage, wherever you are, please hear me when I tell you:
Don’t blink.
0 thoughts on “I Blinked…”
Comments are closed.
Valarie Hedge says:
So True,I’m in shock, our oldest grandson is graduating this year😲 I’m like,he was just born🤦♀️ It’s really crazy how fast it goes🥰 Good luck on next wedding 🩷
Valarie Hedge says:
So True,I’m in shock, our oldest grandson is graduating this year😲 I’m like,he was just born🤦♀️ It’s really crazy how fast it goes🥰 Good luck on next wedding 🩷