If there's a single common refrain among the plethora of parenting aphorisms, it's that "time flies." And while you can find many pearls of wisdom about the relativity of time, nothing ever quite prepares you for the acceleration of time that you experience after becoming a parent.
Right now, the Peanut is 19 months old.
And I have to tell you, my friends, that ever since I became a father 19 months ago, time has been flying faster for me than the half-life of Eva Longoria's acting career.
Honestly, the passing of time has been blowing my mind lately. In my 37 years on this planet, I'm pretty sure that there are entire 19-month periods that have either completely vanished from my memory or can adequately be summed up by the phrase, "fun party, work sucked, broke up with her, took a vacation."
For those of you with teenagers? I can't even begin to imagine how you deal with it. For you, I would think that the dilemma of lost time is even more shocking. One day, you've got a little princess who likes dolls and thinks her daddy is the greatest thing in the entire world. Next thing you know, she's uploading photos of her new "Born to Ride" tattoo on her MySpace account and is getting so many piercings that you think Marilyn Manson might even be concerned. Holy crap! Where's Dr. Emmet Brown and his magic DeLorean when you need him?
In all honesty, I don't know what the future brings for the Peanut. I'm just enjoying being caught up in the Here and Now! And while I'm not going to wax the light nostalgic here, I will say that lately I've been amazed at the increased development of my newest roommate.
Last week with my parents, the Peanut threw her little "Hello Kitty" handbag over her shoulder, strapped her doll into the toy stroller, and started walking around the apartment in a pair of the BossLady's high heels. Saturday, she grabbed my hand and demanded that I walk away from the saleswoman at Janovic Plaza so we could dance and sing "Ring Around the Rosies" together. Then, as we were leaving the store, she turned to the saleswoman and blew her a kiss. Yesterday, at brunch, she spent the entire time sitting calmly in her seat, stuffing dim sum into her mouth off her own plate, and when she was finished, quickly descended and tried to leave the restaurant without us.
Now, either my girl's growing up quickly or she's turning into the second reincarnation of Mariah Carey.
Who is this independent and petulant diva that a mere few months ago couldn't eat a pea by herself and wouldn't walk outside on the street without holding my hand? Wasn't it just the other day that I could palm her entire body like a basketball? And how did I miss the memo that all household bathing policies now required the pre-approved written consent of all minors under the age of two?
So yeah...time is definitely flying for me here. And while I'm less concerned about what this means for my own sense of mortality, I'm also determined not to worry about what the future brings.
Because right now? I've still got a little princess who likes dolls and thinks her daddy is the greatest thing in the entire world.
Besides, who's got time to worry when there are unicorns to ride?