As I was drifting to sleep I got to thinking about time passing. And how we keep expecting Rhiannon to be able to do things or understand things, forgetting how young she really is. I thought, just two years ago, she really was still a baby, and Caroline was just a teeny tiny thing inside me. I decided to come write this down (I got carried away)…
Today Caroline is 19.5 months old and Rhiannon is 4 years, 1 month. Caroline is beginning to talk, dancing around, and beginning to pretend. She’s starting to sleep longer, she’s hardly ever itchy, her skin is clear, and she had a yummy dinner tonight of chicken, carrots, spinach, and onion. Rhiannon is reading many words, loves to make up her own songs, learning to ride a bicycle, loves to explore trails and splash in rivers or creeks, is a picky eater but possibly coming out of it, and stays up as late as she can every night.
A year ago, Caroline was 7 months old, just learned to sit up, beginning to try crawling, had only tasted mango besides breastmilk, had severe eczema, and spent a lot of time sleeping in my arms. Rhiannon had just turned 3. I think she threw more fits then than she does now. She knew all the letter sounds and was beginning to read 3 letter words. She watched too much t.v. while Caroline napped in my arms.
Two years ago, Caroline was a tiny thing in my tummy. Rhiannon had just turned 2. I was tired all the time and Rhiannon spent way too much time with the t.v. But she learned a lot of songs and the letter sounds. She almost mastered toileting, but I handled mistakes poorly and it took 2 more years before she could be trusted to stay dry.
Three years ago, Baby #2 was much desired—we were trying, but my periods had yet to return—and we hadn’t even considered the name Caroline yet. Rhiannon at 13 months was already speaking clearly and had many many words. She was mastering walking, and we went to parks to practice. I don’t remember exactly how I felt at the time, but in retrospect, these days seem so simple, happy, and carefree. She was eating whatever I was. She nursed to sleep easily for naps and bed, and slept for hours and hours. I constantly found Rhiannon amusing.
Four years ago, Baby #2 was a given and soon I’d be eagerly looking forward to it, but Rhiannon had just been born and I was in a new mommy fog, getting used to the new demands on me, the hardest of which perhaps was the 4 a.m. nursing sessions because I still hadn’t discovered co-sleeping and kept trying to put her down in the bassinet instead of keeping her right beside me.
Five years ago, we had just found this house on a quick weekend trip. Soon we’d move in, take a trip to Paris and Stockholm, then conceive Rhiannon after a drive down to Virginia Beach.
Six years ago, if you’d told me I’d be living in Virginia in a year, I’d have looked at you very strangely. I had just finished my second year teaching at Hugo Reid (first graders), my fourth year altogether. I can’t remember when we seriously decided we’d start trying to conceive in 2000; I think it would be six more months.
Seven and eight years ago, we were busy with working and couple stuff.
Nine years ago, we were 13 days from being married.
Ten years ago, I had been living with Robert for two months.
Eleven years ago, we were just about to meet IRL for the first time, after having chatted briefly on the phone and several times in email for two weeks.
Twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen years ago, I was busy with college and dating and working at Mervyn’s.
Sixteen years ago, I’d just graduated from high school.
Twenty years ago, I started my periods.
Thirty years ago, I was 3.5.
Time is so mind-boggling.