This weekend, my kids start having birthdays.
Lucy will be one on Saturday. One. I won’t start – all the kids will get their own posts on their day. Still, though. A whole year.
Then next month, Ava will be seven. In June Max turns nine. It’s all very surreal and sobering, and it’s made me reflect in the last few days.
I don’t know where I thought I’d be at this age or what I expected, but my life is definitely not what I pictured. Not worse, if anything it’s better in its way. But still, not what I pictured.
I suppose I’ve always thought of time as more vast than it is. Even now, if you asked me what my life would be like in five years, I’d have at least a fleeting notion of books and houses and enough of everything. Money, love, friends. Time. That’s certainly how I felt five years ago.
Oddly though, while I think of time as disproportionately huge, I don’t think I give it enough merit for as fleeting as it is. Does that make sense? Hindsight, I guess. Looking forward, five years seems huge, and then tomorrow it’s passed.
Wow, could I be more cliche?
Maybe the key is to do what you can with every day and every opportunity, and not worry about the amount of time that passes.
So ask me in five years if I am where I thought I’d be.