Saying that children “grow-up so fast” is an old cliché but it’s true. One minute you’re changing diapers and the next you’re sending them off to annoy professional educators who don’t get paid enough to put up with your child’s particular brand of bullshit. Everyday speeds by so fast you lose track of what happened when, the weeks and months all blend together into an incomprehensible blur and the next thing you know the years are flying by as you hurdle ever closer to death.
And yet somehow every second spent up at 3 am with a crying baby, every minute spent listening to Dora ask some stupid fucking question about my opinion on her particular problem and every hour spent in the car with a child whining from the back seat about how long it’s taking to get there, where ever it is, seems to take the kind of time usually reserved for measuring the life cycle of celestial bodies.
Or maybe it’s just me… I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Sorry.