Archive for March 24th, 2011

A day six years in the making

Time expands and then contracts….

Bryan and I have long disagreed on the meaning of this particular line from Hard Candy by Counting Crows. He thinks it means certain periods of time seem to last forever, while others of the same length just fly by. I think it means that in the moment, it may seem like time stretches out, but when you look back, you can’t believe how quickly it passed. Perception versus reality, I suppose.

Looking at these photos of Ava from the past six years drives this point home for me.

It took this child almost two years to say a two-syllable word. I thought I’d perish before I finally heard her first sentence. At the time, potty training most certainly took forever.

Remember when Ava cut her own bangs? I thought they’d never grow back. And, the phase when she would only sleep (horizontally, and between us) in our bed? AGES.

But now? Could it have really been six years ago? Because it feels like yesterday.

But it’s quite obvious much has transpired in those six years. Now, Ava talks like a grown up. She mimics grown-up behavior. She rolls her eyes at her father, pleads to have her ears pierced, and reads absolutely anything you put in front her. She’s questioned the origin of life, and whether or not a punishment is fair. She has her own fashion sense, rocking plaids with prints and owning it completely. She’s fiercely independent.

And, yet, she’s still quite little, at least in the sense that she needs reassurance, she needs comforting, and she needs to be near us. Sometimes, I honestly forget that she is still a child, that she still needs to be held.

When she reminds me, I scoop her up, limbs everywhere, and hold her close. In that moment, time expands, and then, all to quickly, contracts.