I felt confident in my understanding of time before I became a parent. I could manage my appointments, plan my days, and adhere to deadlines with ease. But the arrival of my little ones turned time into a tricky adversary.
Once the kids came along, everything revolved around the clock: mealtimes, bath times, playtimes, and, oh thank goodness, naptimes. I quickly learned that I had to organize our day around these events, or chaos would ensue. My oldest thrived on routine, counting the days until the next event in “how many sleeps.” My youngest, however, preferred a more spontaneous approach, avoiding sleep at all costs to not miss out on any fun.
Navigating the needs of these two vastly different personalities felt like part of the universe’s grand design to keep me on my toes. Toddlers don’t adhere to time. This is why you never tell a child about an upcoming event more than five minutes in advance. Their emotions are like molten lava, bubbling over with anticipation. “When are we seeing Santa? Is it time for Santa? Can it be Santa time yet? Mommy, Santa, Mommy!” If you casually mention Christmas in October, brace yourself for a non-stop countdown for the next three months.
Minutes become meaningless. They slip away like grains of sand in an hourglass—an hourglass that toddlers get their sticky fingers on, tipping, shaking, and throwing against the wall. You find yourself holding up a finger to signal “just a minute” while on the phone: “Just a minute, sweetheart.” At the grocery store, you plead, “Just a minute, love.” And when you’re in the bathroom, it’s a desperate “In a minute, please!”
I remember waiting in a long post office line, trying to mail six heavy boxes of holiday gifts. My fidgety toddler suddenly declared she needed to go potty—of course, she hadn’t needed to before we left the house. “Can you wait a minute, pumpkin?” I asked, and she nodded sweetly, only to promptly let go right there on the counter. In toddler language, “wait a minute” translates to “now.”
Parenting is filled with those “now” moments. Our bodies get swept up in the chaos, enduring nine months of demands to eat now, sleep now, and give birth now. Babies require soothing immediately, and young children want everything instantly. From the moment they can speak, we hear “Watch me! Are you watching? Look what I can do now!” It’s utterly exhausting. Some days, you wish time would speed up; bedtime can’t come soon enough. If only they could walk, talk, or be out of diapers already! Yet, other days—those filled with cuddles and smiles that are just for you—seem to stretch on forever, and you wish you could freeze them in time.
As they grow, those “now” moments often turn into “five more” requests. “Time for bed!” becomes “Five more minutes?” “Time for dinner!” is met with “Five more minutes! I’m almost at the next level/waiting for this show to end/on the phone/looking for Pokémon.” Some days, you find yourself wishing they would hurry up. How long can it take to finish a bowl of cereal, find their shoes, or walk to the car? You feel like Alice’s white rabbit, forever scrambling against the clock.
And then come the “later” moments as they head into their teenage years. “When are you going to take out the trash?” “Later.” “Have you finished your homework?” “I’ll do it later.” “When will you be home?” “Later.” They start to carve out their own time, prioritizing friends over family. The “now”s shift to “whenever”s, and it becomes rare for them to call out, “Watch me!” More often, they seek privacy. Yet, you still find yourself anxiously watching the clock when they’re out late. You bite your tongue, waiting to be invited into their hearts when they face heartbreak or disappointment. With fewer demands on your time, it feels as though the days race by, those grains of sand slipping through your fingers as you try to catch them. Time warps: the days may feel long, but the years pass in a flash.
As I approach the empty nest phase, I look forward to regaining the ability to schedule my days without interruptions. Funny enough, I stopped wearing a watch about a year ago. My oldest turns 20 this week—an age that feels surreal. All those “now”s, “hurry up”s, and “later”s feel like they happened both yesterday and ages ago. Suddenly, I want to pause. Just a minute! Five more minutes? But time, with its own relentless rhythm, marches on.
For more insights into parenting and family life, check out this excellent resource on infertility. If you’re exploring parenthood, consider reading about your couple’s fertility journey with an artificial insemination kit. You can also find helpful tips on using a home insemination kit at our other blog post.
Summary:
Navigating parenting is a complex dance with time, filled with moments of urgency and delays. From the relentless “now” demands of toddlers to the postponed “later” requests of teens, parents often find themselves caught in a whirlwind of schedules and expectations. As children grow, the relationship with time evolves—each phase bringing its own unique challenges and joys. Ultimately, even as we wish to pause time, it continues its steady march forward.