Amanda Lamb: Reeling in the years

“I can’t believe Thanksgiving is here and Christmas is right around the corner!”

Dozens of people have said to me recently. I can’t believe it either.

Why is it that the older you get, the faster time passes? When my children were babies, I remember long nights with them in the nursery, feeding them, rocking them, praying they would sleep so that I could sleep. The digital clock on the dresser seemed to be fueled by molasses, the numbers turning ever so slowly. Even now, I can hear that clicking sound when a number turned over signaling another epic minute had passed. I stared at that clock, willing it to move.

I remember endless afternoons, trying to calm a crying baby or a fidgety toddler, longing for adult conversation, watching mind-numbing daytime television and wondering when the sun would finally set. This is laughable to me now as I wake before sunrise and rarely see the sun set. Life is on fast-forward, just grainy images passing by my speeding car.

I picture each day like a time-lapsed video … the sun rises, I run, the kids go to school, we go to work, we come home, there is dinner, extracurricular activities, meetings, housework and then my exhausted head on the pillow. The crying babies are now teenagers running out the door with their friends. I catch of glimpse of their tail lights as they head up the driveway. Sometimes I get a backhanded wave.

My oldest is off to college next year. My youngest is now in high school and throws herself into all that encompasses with great gusto — balancing school, dance and a vivacious social life. Time races by us at a breakneck speed.

Time is a precious resource. Use it wisely.