There is more than a grain of truth to the saying 'time flies when you are having fun' and even more in the saying [which I just invented] 'time stops when everything sucks'.
Yesterday three things happened.
Firstly, nothing happened. On the house that is. All day the wind blew through the tarps, making them flap upwards a bit like a can-can dancer flashing her knickers. Occasionally I thought there were men up there, walking on the roof. But alas, it was just the wind and some rather alarmingly high stacks of roof tiles. After all the action and progress of the first three weeks, this week has been rather quiet and lonely.
Secondly, my eldest daughter turned three and a half. So we threw an impromptu surprise party for her, complete with invitations, balloons, and party hats. As Aunty C. pointed out, she is now halfway to 7. Uncle N. followed this up by saying she is one sixth of the way to 21. My baby can't be 21!
Thirdly, I went to Kindy orientation, as my baby, who is halfway to 7, will be going 'big school' in the New Year. I still remember the day I found out I was pregnant with her. I still remember the day she was born. I remember the first day she crawled. She can't be going to school already.
A friend and I stood in the Kindy playground last night, in the dark, discussing how we are fighting to slow time down. With our eldest children off to school, and our youngest coming up to their first birthday in a matter of weeks, we can feel this special time slipping away. The time of having a Baby. Before they are walking and become toddlers. Before they start throwing tantrums. Before they start talking (and talking back). While they still have those fat rolls on their thighs and they can still put their feet in their mouths. Before they have a mouth of teeth. While you still count their age in months, not years.
So a plea to keeper of time, speed up the building process, but slow down the aging process. I'd like to keep my baby for a bit longer please.