It goes so fast.
Did you once want to pinch the people who said that to you?
When you hadn't slept for half a year, and every day was a week because your brain was an unfamiliar mush of confusion, fear and unparalleled love.
"The days are long but the years are short!"
"Enjoy every minute. Blink and it's over."
Shut. Up. You want to say. My reality now is that I will only ever be the person in charge of this tiny, squally little everything. Or the person chasing this toddler around a freezing/boiling playground. Or the person rushing to daycare pickup. Or the person stressing about feeding, sleeping, milestones and snot removal.
This is what being a parent is.
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The thing is, by Mid, you've discovered that wasn't parenting. That was a season. And those busybodies were right, it did, despite all evidence, go so fast.
The new season, the one where you love the toddler as much as ever, but the toddler is now a teenager with a closed door, or a young adult who sees you as a chore, is just as terrible and wonderful, as stressful and as hilarious, just in a completely different way.
And actually, this is what being a parent is. A lifetime of adjustment, a constant tinkering at the edges of your obsessive love for this particular human who, by the very rules of biology, the universe and everything, needs you less and less every day.
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