Much has been said of time in our household this week. I can steam clean all the parts needed for the breast pump in six minutes. The baby is fed in three or four-hour increments. Each day I'm asked how old he is by some passerby and I respond with a number of weeks. Tonight, Audrey began using the word "future." This week, a friend posted pictures on Facebook from our wedding day, which is now closer to being a decade ago than five years ago. This same friend also posted some pictures from a high school Christmas slumber party I attended, almost fifteen years ago (you can imagine the firestorm of fashion-related comments such a picture elicits). Then, on Friday, Jason turned thirty-three. Yes, much has been said of time lately in our house. Jason and I have looked at each other and asked, "Thirty-three? Really?" I did the math, just to make sure. It's not that we shouldn't be this age - obviously, we've put in the time - we just got so busy we stopped keeping track. We started keeping track of other things: the things that Audrey says, the ways in which she grows, Nathan's increasing facial expressions - all things that should remind us of the time we've spent, but they seem to distract us, instead.
So here they are, the distractions of the week - and just more proof that these kids are growing before our eyes:
On Sunday morning, Audrey serenaded Jason with a song, made up entirely of the word "waffle" (her nickname for him) to entice him to come get her out of bed.
Monday morning Nathan was crying. Before I could get him fed (and, thus, calmed down) Audrey woke up. When I met her in her bedroom she said, "Your yelling woke me up. Or, maybe it was my little brother."
That same morning we took Nathan for his one-month check-up. It was snowing as we walked into the doctor's office. Audrey noticed. "It's snowing," she said. "The snow is flying. It's teaching me how."
Later that day she informed me, "I want a new mom. Mine puts me in time out." (She wasn't even in time out when she said this. She hadn't been put in time out all day).
Apparently, by dinner, all was forgiven. Jason told her, "You know the hug you gave me this morning? I took it to work."
Audrey answered, "Can I have it back? I want to give it to Mom."
This week, I've been teaching Audrey that she only needs to use two sheets of toilet paper when she goes potty (we have an entire roll that has been pulled off and discarded sitting on top of the porcelain tank). On Wednesday, Jason took her to potty and pulled off three sheets for her. "That's not two," she said.
Audrey likes to play doctor. She has a cream for anything that ails you. On Friday, while coloring, she handed me a red crayon and asked, "Can you draw a rash?" When I didn't start coloring, she decided to sweeten her request. "Can you draw a rash, sugar?" she said.
Before long, we will be referring to Nathan's age in months. But for now, we are taking him in in minutes. The strength of this little one surprises us, almost as much as his quiet, sweet demeanor. He clutches onto fingers so tightly, and sometimes, when upset, grabbing his mama's hand is enough to calm his cries. Be still, my heart.
With minutes like these, it's easy to get distracted from the years.