Wild + Precious Transition
a monthly column by Amber Smith Zaliski
I turned 35 last month, and my baby girl will be 5 this month, and about 6 months ago, we started transitioning into a new phase of life.
My husband took his first travel nurse contract in Dallas, we cleaned out, we moved, we bought and sold vehicles twice over, we’re tip-toeing into homeschooling, and wow, this winter felt like three long years. But all of a sudden, the sun is shining again and the flowers are blooming, and springtime makes me feel like I might remember being 5 years old running barefoot, and can someone please, please tell me where all of the time goes?
I know. I know. I’ve heard grown-ups talk about this my whole life, about how time seems to move faster the older you get, but I was much younger then and barely listening, but suddenly, now, I’m starting to GET IT. Does this make me a grown-up?
My little girl was bald for the first two years of her life. I mean, there was fuzz and this one really long strand that would stand straight up, but she was bald (and so cute), and we just kept waiting. Now? She has these beautiful blonde curls bouncing off her shoulder blades as she races up the trail in front of us and what looks like some pro-level balayage action (really, people ask me quite often if that’s her real hair. Um, yes. Did I have it colored? Huh? She’s 4 … No.) Gosh her legs seem even longer than last week, and when did she get so fast? Luckily, her daddy is with us, and he can chase her because the two-mile sprint? That is not my race. Those are not my genetics.
Time is so tricky. How long must a year feel when you’ve only lived four of them? Ohhhh. Is this why at 35 they seem to just slip right by? Percentages? Math is also not my race. Every once in a while lately my little girl will say something or ask something that signifies some level of understanding of mortality. Fun conversations, right parents? “Well, yes baby, death is a part of life.” Her little lip is quivering, and I’m crying, too. “That’s why it’s so important to us to spend as much time as we can doing fun things together.” She usually takes off running and laughing again, even though I’m still teary-eyed watching her. Is everyone crying yet? Knowing that this isn’t forever, though, hopefully helps all the song lyrics ring more true. Cue Macklemore and Kesha’s “The Good Old Days.” Sometimes we need a reminder.
One of my favorite thoughts on time comes from one of my favorite authors, Annie Dillard. She’s so insightful. “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives,” she said. “What we do with this hour and that one is what we are doing.” Wow. How true is that? And how true is it that an hour can dissipate so easily? Life is full of things that we all have to do. Plenty of things just have to be done – the dishes, the laundry, someone’s gotta make some money around here – but maybe if we’re more intentional about our hours and even minutes (hello mindless scrolling of strangers’ internet lives – we’re all a little guilty, right?) we can start to add them up. Annie’s advice that I needed to hear: “A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days.”
The thing is, though, that schedules usually aren’t the most fun in the beginning. I know! (I keep trying to get up earlier to write more.) And where do you even start? Start with your values (family, health, and fun are important to us.) Spending time and money on things you value doesn’t feel like a waste. And sometimes schedules are quite long – years in the making. I know this also. But is it worth the intentional effort and the sometimes drastic changes required to start catching more days of your life? From the summit of a trail on a beautiful Tuesday with my family, and also from Bubbles 5-Star Washateria on this Sunday evening where I’m typing this with my thumbs, catching this hour – my answer is the same. Yes! Or maybe even Yaaassss! if I was cooler. Here’s to the hard work of weaving bigger nets, catching more days, and adding more quality to our time.
