Just a matter of time

It was either the 20th century French Existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre or Hootie & the Blowfish who once asked, "Time, why you punish me?" I was thinking about this the other day as I changed my youngest daughter's diaper after she had eaten more than her older two siblings combined.

Not pictured: Jean-Paul Sartre

Wiping someone else's butt really makes you take stock of your life. If you would have told me 20 years ago I'd have three kids and a minivan, I would not have believed it. But Weezer is now on classic rock radio stations and, when I get a haircut these days, there's a little less to take off the top and a little more to trim around the eyebrows and ears, so here we are.

The truth is, if you would have told me two years ago I'd have three kids, I might not have believed it. Our youngest was -- and I'll ask my in-laws to cover their eyes for the next word -- conceived in March 2020, just before everything shut down. (And I mean "everything": Belle and I decided that month was going to be our last try for a third.) The first nine months of the uncertainty and anxiety of the pandemic were counterbalanced by the excitement of our pending arrival.

The day before she was born, I remember taking the older kids out as they rode their scooters and all I could think was: I really hope starting Ezekiel Elliott over Antonio Gibson will not torpedo my fantasy football matchup. I couldn't fathom how different life would be in 24 hours, so it was easier to focus on on the trivial. 

But then I blinked and I was leaving the hospital with our daughter. (The best part of having a baby during the pandemic? No visitors allowed in the hospital. It like a mini-vacation, albeit one where my wife was recovering from major surgery.) Then I blinked again and the oldest had completed a year of virtual kindergarten, only seeing her teacher in person on the last day of school for a quick photo. Then I blinked again and my son was standing on his tiptoes while getting most of his pee in the toilet. (More on that another time.)

Quarantines, hand sanitizer, vaccines, masks, PCR tests, having vaccines for kids under 5 pushed back, holidays on Zoom, having vaccines for kids under 5 pushed back again... life has gone by real fast the last two years when it hasn't felt like Groundhog Day. I know we are fortunate that everyone has remained healthy, which is all that really matters, and we have been able to work from home. But I can't help wonder if we'll ever really know everything that we've lost in the pandemic.

Belle and I have occasionally debated at what age of childhood the last few years have been toughest for. I maintain it's easiest for our kids, the youngest ones, because they largely do not know what they are missing and, by the time they are older, this mishegas hopefully will be long gone. Time, in other words, is on their side.

Speaking of "Time," Hootie also sang, "The future's far away / And now only lasts for one second." So I've tried my best to appreciate the present and live in the moment. I am grateful I can pick up from preschool and walk home from the bus stop, that I can watch my youngest go from infant to toddler with my own eyes rather than through pictures and updates on my phone.

Because one day I will blink and they all will be grown up. And then I will blink again and they will be changing my diapers.