Where Does The Time Go?

It used to be that I would watch the clock and wonder how I was going to fill the 45 minutes before Q’s bedtime. How many Boynton books would he listen to before he started fussing? Would I really go insane by singing one more rendition of the alphabet song? Maybe I could help him learn how to roll over or sit up (and bark, for that matter).

Now the little dude is two, and I can’t believe how inventive he is. A quick rummage through his toy bin produces guitars and drums for everyone nearby, and he gives orders for his accompaniment. Next, we’re all to stand up and join him for a round of martial arts, complete with stern facial expressions. It’s bedtime before we know it.

On a day-to-day basis, I spend too much effort focusing on just getting through the list of tasks – change him out of PJs into daytime clothes, serve milk, read a morning story, get shoes, hat, sunglasses, and diaper bag together for an outing – so that we can spend time together, having fun.

It’s good to remember that we’re spending time together during those tasks too. The getting-ready minutes are just as important, and can be as memorable as the officially-having-fun minutes. A tickle-fest here, peekaboo there, and we’re out the door, more or less on time, and already happy.

(Not that we don’t have the occasional monumental melt-down, but hey, who’s perfect around here?)

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Q says, There’s always time to see a fire truck!