Getting terrified of time

It’s the 1st October. What? How has this happened? I know that’s something that people say all the time but lately I’m feeling a bit shell shocked at the speed of which life is passing by and it’s got me thinking all too deeply about time. I’ve also been to my eldest son’s Harvest Festival today so it’s very apt to be thinking about change!

I have 2 sons, who, along with my husband, are the absolute centres of my universe. I literally could burst with pride over them and thank my lucky stars every day that I have them all. The big one is 7 and went up to junior school this term. I was all set for an epic meltdown as he ventured into the new ‘big school’, once again being amongst the babies of the playground. I worried and worried about it, having had term after term of tears when returning to infant school after a holiday. When the big day came, however, he was absolutely fine. Now don’t get me wrong, I was so, so pleased about this, all I want for him is to be happy – but it was just another sign of him needing me less and being less dependent on his mum.

My youngest is soon to turn 11 months old and every day he seems to be developing a new talent or favourite thing and is rapidly growing into a wonderful whirlwhind by the second. This weekend we decided to tackle the baby clothes as we had such a mountain that were no longer being used and it’s really hit me hard! As I went through the clothes mountain, I was gazing at each thing – many of which were only ever worn once, and others that were a bit tired looking having been passed down from my eldest, and I was feeling absolutely devastated that there wasn’t going to be another baby wearing them.

My husband is dead set on the fact that two children is enough – three – he says – changes your life completely. I do get where he’s coming from, and the fact that he’s a middle child probably has something to do with it – but I am feeling sick and sad at the thought that there’ll be no more babies. Both my boys were ‘high needs babies’ also known as bloody hard work, but despite this, I look back on the newborn stage with utter love. You wouldn’t have thought this could be true with the epic sleep deprivation I went through both times, but I’d go back to it in an instant!

I’m still feeding my youngest but he is less and less fussed about milk every day – and that is really hitting hard. I have loved feeding him, as I did with my first (after the toe curling pain of course) and it’s another chapter of mine and their lives that is nearly over.

I’m trying to be positive of course and looking at each stage of life as a wonderful time that we have loved and I will remember, but I’m getting this strange feeling of being terrified by time – by how fast it now moves and how quickly everything happens.

I don’t know the conclusion of this blog and I don’t know how to make myself feel better about this but I felt the need to write it down as I’m sure that lots of other people feel the same!

How do we make the most of every minute when every minute is so bloody busy and goes so very fast! I think part of my problem is I want it all. I want to be a good mum, a good wife, a good friend, a fit and healthy person and good at my job, and that’s tough!

When I told Kate I was writing a blog about being afraid of time, she said “how can you be afraid of time? You’re always late!” And she’s right – I am! I’m beaten by time all the time – somehow I need to embrace it rather than chase it………..ideas on a postcard please.