Time

I've been thinking about time a lot lately. Not in a profound, morbid sense, like "We only have a short time on this Earth, I'm going to be an old lady and kicking the bucket before I know it." (Though, yes, I've gone there.) Just your run of the mill thoughts on time. As in, "I've been wanting to write more often, but I haven't had time." Or "How do we do anything when we only have 2 hours between getting home from work and our newly instated 7:00 bedtime?" (For the kids-but God knows I could use a 7:00 bedtime every now and then myself!) Last weekend, I remember looking at the clock at one point and saying to myself, "Oh, it's only 10:30, I thought it was later," and then I remember looking at the clock again and thinking, "What the heck, how did it get to be 2:30?"

 I know I'm not alone in this feeling of time slipping away more quickly than we realize: there are MILLIONS of articles, books, blogs, planners, etc. giving us ideas for maximizing time, streamlining procedures for home, work, cleaning, anything to give us more time. (I just wasted 5 minutes of my time right now looking for statistics on how much money people spend on these products, and decided it didn't matter.) I've read various tips, ideas, tried multiple calendars, to do lists, etc, and this is what I'm left with:

Time is precious.

Time will continue to tick away. (No fighting or changing that one!)

I can get done what I get done and shouldn't stress about what didn't get done. (I'm already pretty good at not stressing about the day-to-day stuff, but this feeling typically hits around 4 pm on Sunday.)

I'm more aware of this time-slippage and vow to stop more and enjoy the moment.

Sicky-poo is rocking an ensemble that combines not one, not two,
but three different pajama sets. Isn't he stylish? 

Because suddenly, I have this almost-four-year-old here who doesn't resemble his baby self in any way, shape, or form, who says crazy and wonderful and sometimes profound things. He makes us laugh, he makes us crazy (typical 3 3/4 year old, no?) but Johnny and I catch ourselves thinking, "When did he get so old?" and those baby moments are such a distant memory, it seems like another lifetime. (I do also have this super-crazy soon-to-be-two-year-old that amazes me with how he's changed, but he is still a baby in my eyes-for now! Just wanted to clarify that all is fair here, and Finnboo is not preferred over Kieksy or anything!) Apparently I'm not the only one having these thoughts, because I just popped over to my google reader and saw (my favorite) Kelle Hampton's most recent post-she's lamenting the same thing with her first and oldest!

So, since Finnboo is battling some virus that won't quit (day 2 of a low-grade fever over here, no school for us,) I'm going to stop what I'm doing and enjoy the snuggle-time with him and Kieksy. (He's here because Mommy didn't feel like waking his soundly-sleeping self to get dressed and go to school!) Who am I kidding, the motrin's kicked in, there's craziness all around. As I type, they're dismantling the vacuum cleaner. Hooray!

I'd like to do an experiment and see if anyone will answer a question: How do you handle/deal with/accept "time-slippage?" Please leave a comment with your answer. (I'm not big-time enough to have a giveaway for a random commenter or anything, just curious to see if you'll play along!)

Enjoy your day!