Everybody who has kids tells us to enjoy our time, because they grow up so fast. And I believe them–Wolfe’s already 6 months old! Wasn’t it just yesterday that I could hold his entire body in one hand?
What nobody warned us about was the weird time warp a kid can be. I am, by nature, a very punctual person (my wife? Not so much). No matter how much extra time I try to plan in, though, I find myself perpetually behind.
For example, I came home this afternoon after picking my son up from daycare. As we pulled into the garage, I looked at the clock and told him we’d have time for an hour nap before we had to get ready to go back to school (I run our writing center in the afternoons while my wife trades me for baby duty).
I couldn’t tell you anything specifically calamitous that happened–there was a routine diaper change and I also took a moment to enjoy a Snapple–but by the time we hit the hay, we only had 25 minutes before we needed to get up.
Oh, and that wake up time? I had allowed double the time I should need to feed Wolfe, change his diaper, put on his coat (although it’s a little small for me–har har) and load him in the car. Yet somehow I found myself racing down the road, trying to get to the writing center before the kids. I made it back to school only three minutes late, but for a person who prides himself on being on time, that’s an eternity.
So if you find any extra minutes lying around, let me know. I keep misplacing mine.