a cliched post about time passing…

I can’t believe that The Boy is almost 6. I used to roll my eyes every time I heard a grown up commenting “my, how time flies” or “look how they’ve grown!”

When you’re the child in the equation, those days/months/years drag by. There’s always the push to grow up, have more autonomy, do more, become more.

But when you’re the mom? Time flies. Look how he’s grown.

We had a walk down memory lane the other night, spurred by him asking why he had a belly button. We covered umbilical cords, placentas, in utero development, Daddy cutting the cord (Did I cry? I think I miss it. Why don’t I have it now?). That led to ‘What did I look like? How big was I? How many inches is 19 and a half? Are  you glad I’m out of your belly?’ and all the other wonderful questions a kid’s brain can come up with.

He was so, so tiny. And now he’s 4 feet tall and almost 6 years old and comes up with the most interesting life observations and is this totally amazing human being. I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing him as he was, in that first moment when I grabbed him from the doctor’s hands and pulled him to me and gasped in awe at him. And yet…he’s growing. Every day is a new skill learned,  new philosophies discovered and discussed.

And I find myself saying “time really flies, doesn’t it?” I would find time for new words to convey the sentiment…but I’d rather fall back on cliche. Because as time is flying, I’d rather spend it with The Boy!