Why is it sad?

As Marie and I sat watching our four year old slowly and deliberately turn the pages of his 'How Trains Work' picture book on the sofa this afternoon, Marie gently stroked his hair, sighed and thoughtfully mentioned:

"It's only fourteen more Christmasses until you're an adult"

To this, I reflexively exclaimed "Oh goodness", and we both looked at each other with a sadness in our eyes, lamenting the rapid passage of childhood and the fleeting nature of these precious moments.

There was a brief pause, before the four year old, without looking away from his book, piped up,

"Why is that sad?"

Neither of us had an answer at first.

We thought for a moment before responding.

"I suppose it isn't sad, really, it's just that it feels like time is going by so quickly, and we love spending as much time with you as possible".

It dawned on us that we're already halfway through Marie's third maternity leave, and so much has changed in the blink of an exhausted eye. He nodded briefly, as if to acknowledge that the response to his enquiry was in fact adequate, before returning his attention to the page.

The phrase 'long days, short years' is thrown around when discussing the exhausting trial by fire that is parenting. It's so true. Every day feels like a marathon, relentlessly exhausting and fulfilling in equal measure, but then you finally take a breath and stop to look around and you relaise six months have passed and you wonder where that sweet little infant went, and where this grown up boy arrived from.

Today was a powerful reminder to myself to stop and take a breath, and realise just how fleeting these moments are. They're only children for eighteen Christmasses.

Don't waste them.