Marking Time

Having had a baby in December, three weeks early, I feel as if I have blinked and somehow woken up in March. Wait, no, April. Or so the calendar told me when I finally remembered to look at it this week.

Not that life has been so smooth I haven’t noticed the passing of time. For me, life with a newborn and a two-year old amid all the changes our little family has been going through is like being submerged in deep, churning waters for an extended period of time.

Every now and then I get a little time alone to peek above the surface and am surprised at what I see and hear. Songbirds are back in the trees on our block. Our Nectaplum and Thundercloud Plum trees are blooming and when the sun shines a few bees flit around their branches. Packs of tomcats are roaming the streets. Hemlines are rising and men’s shirts are coming off.

Here is what I have decided. I am not going to worry too much about thrashing my way out of this chaotic time of life. I cannot. I will not worry about where we are on the calendar or what the clock says (not too much, anyway).

I will remember to draw back the curtains, open the windows and breathe the fresh air every day. I will notice the smell of baking loaves, blossoms and rain or frost as the case may be. Maybe even a little bit of sunshine. I will notice which flower my oldest picks, buries his nose in and brings for me to smell. I will mark time by standing still and opening my eyes.

Photo Credit: Gabo Halili via Flickr cc