Where Does All the Time Go?

Time flies.  It wasn't always so, at least not for me.  When I was a child, it seemed to drag on forever, one day or even a single hour, taking an eternity to end.  I remember the suffering I felt at 7 having to wait a half hour after lunch before I could go swimming.  The last week of school was achingly long, just anticipating the onset of summer.  I didn't treasure the moments; I just lived them.

But now, it passes quickly.  I gave birth to my first daughter.  Wasn't it only a year ago?  But no.  Over seven years, 4 children, and 4 baby teeth moving out later, I come near my youngest daughter's second birthday.  There were so many things I wanted to do with them.

I was going to teach them a different language for each day of the week.  I was going to teach each of them to swim as infants.  I was going to teach them a Bible verse every day and read them a bedtime story every night before bed.  What happened?  The time just slipped away.

It's not that time is at fault.  Time passes as it always has.  I think I'm just becoming more aware of it than in my youth.  At times like this moment, when I am sitting outside on the patio at Starbucks on Crabapple and Houze, feeling the soft breeze, listening to the cars as they pass by, and look in to the blue sky filled with puffy clouds in thought, that I stop and take stock of my time.  In truth, I have wasted much of it, or spent it on things less valuable to me.

Perhaps when I was on Facebook earlier, I could have read Gabriela that book.  Or maybe I could have let the children help me earlier, when they actually wanted to clean the dining room with me.  When I think of all the "what ifs" in my time managements, I must be careful.  There must be a true balance between the flippancy of waste and the condemnation of regret.  I have to face my actions, and their consequences, not in order to be overcome by guilt, but that I may measure how to change and improve how I spend my time. 

Because my older children are on the Autism Spectrum, I must be aware that anything I give them may be broken on a moment's notice due to a temper of frustration or sudden outburst.  I must choose to either give them items that are unbreakable or keep from getting anxious myself when they do destroy an item.  The fact that they do sometimes tear things apart does not keep me from introducing my children to something new entirely; I must just wait a while and try again later.  Time is like that.  It changes people.  It allows us to mature and to try again...and again...and again.

So here I sit, evaluating my last week and being completely honest with myself at the time I have wasted as well as that which I have spent wisely.  I admit, it's not pretty.  I'm the best of procrastinators and the worst manager of time. But I want, I will, I choose to do better with this gift I have been given.  Already, I have felt the quickening.  Thus it is now the season for me to redeem the time.