A mom’s point of view: Time travel — it’s just for grown-ups

When my daughters were little, experienced moms (many of them strangers) would often tell me to enjoy every moment with my girls because the time goes so fast.

It didn’t always feel like it was going fast to me, with long days and even longer nights of feeding, changing and burping babies. One time a woman in an elevator saw my two daughters in their double stroller and said, “Oh, it’s so easy when they are little like that — just wait until they are teenagers!” I remember thinking, “If this is easy, then I’m in big trouble.”

I promised myself that I would not say such things to younger mothers when I became one of the “more experienced” moms. But I do agree that time is flying. Here are some of my regular reminders:

Ÿ Keeping track of the mileage in my car.

Ÿ The fact that at almost any given moment, at least one of my daughter’s pants are too short.

Ÿ The reminder call from our dentist telling us that it’s time to get our teeth cleaned … again.

Ÿ The sound of my Cuisinart coffee maker automatically shutting off in the morning, when I haven’t even finished my first cup.

Ÿ I finally got used to writing 2011 on my checks, and now it’s 2012.

Ÿ Recently, while looking at a photo from over a decade ago, I glanced over at my husband and noticed that he was wearing the same shirt as in the picture.

And did I mention that I turned 40 this month?

I don’t think time flies for kids. Even though my youngest daughter sometimes says she wishes she was still in preschool so she could go out to lunch with me, and my oldest says she is not in a hurry to grow up and have a mortgage, I’ve never overheard my children talking with their friends about how fast they are growing up. I’ve never eavesdropped on them having hot cocoa with their buddies, reminiscing about how it seems like just yesterday that they were in kindergarten doing jolly phonics. Most kids are easily able to do what is difficult for many grown-ups: to live in the moment.

Grown-ups seem to be big into time travel. I have friends who wish they could go back in time to when their kids were babies. They miss those days. I don’t. I mean, I loved having babies, but I also love to sleep. I’m more of a futuristic sort of gal. I jump ahead, sometimes in a fear-stricken sort of way, trying to figure out how we are going to pay for college, or worried that our girls might get off track somehow. People seem to enjoy alerting my husband and me to the fact that not only do we have three college tuitions to pay for, but also three weddings. As if we hadn’t noticed.

My seventh-grade daughter is a cheerleader, and while attending a recent game I was amazed at how much her classmates have grown — kids I haven’t seen in a couple of years, some of them barely recognizable. And sure enough, before I even knew the words were coming out of my mouth I was saying things like, “You are so grown up!” or “I can’t believe how big you are — you’re like a man!”

Even though I now realize that those moms were right, I try to resist the urge to tell younger mothers to enjoy every moment, and I’ve made it a policy to not give unsolicited advice. I have learned to never ask details about a woman’s assumed pregnancy, even when you are certain she must be in her last trimester, and I am opposed to the notion that it’s acceptable to rub a stranger’s belly, just because there is a baby inside.

But if I didn’t have such high scruples, if I didn’t adhere to these principles, I would tell a younger mom that time does indeed fly. I would tell her to embrace each season, but that it is impossible to enjoy every moment, because some moments are dreadful and she needs to move through them and forget about them. She needs to go to sleep, wake up, and realize that it’s a new day, and that even if she can’t see it right now, she is doing an amazing job.

I would tell her that her chatty toddler will grow up to be a chatty teenager, and she will be so glad that her daughter still talks to her at 13. I would tell her that her frustrated preschooler, the one who is crying because she can’t figure out how to make an airplane out of paper plates and tape, will someday teach herself how to knit with pencils by watching a YouTube video. And I would tell her that one day in the not-so-distant future, a teacher will say that her super-intense, over-the-top daughter — the one that told her neighbors that their couch was ugly when she was in preschool — has been chosen to help a student with special needs because of her caring, kind nature.

My New Year’s resolution is simple but not easy. I resolve to be present — not longing for the past or anxiously thinking about the days to come.

I’ll do my best to enjoy the great moments because they are a gift, and to grow through the hard ones, remembering that they, too, are part of the process.

ŸBecky Baudouin lives in the Northwest suburbs with her husband, Bernie, their three daughters and their puppy, Lila. She blogs regularly at beckyspen.blogspot.com.