It's a bird, it's a plane ....

Time flies, or so they say. But for many years I managed to ignore the passage of time.

From about 1994 to 2004, I lived essentially the same life. I resided in New York City, worked and dated. I moved apartments twice, changed jobs a lot and had a couple of boyfriends, but the through line of my life remained relatively unchanged. For those things that did change, I had ways of covering them up: A few more gray hairs? More highlights! Frown lines? Nothing a little Botox can’t fix. Ticking biological clock? Let’s have another cocktail and forget it.

But now that I am a mother, nothing stays the same. This week alone, life has handed me irrefutable evidence that time is rushing by with alarming quickness.

1. August and Finley turned six months old.
2. August and Finley tried solid food for the first time. One moment, only milk, formula and a little Tylenol had passed through their perfect pink lips. The next moment, mashed up avocado mixed with breast milk was running down their chins.
3. Finley rolled over all the way from back to front for the first time.
4. August pushed up onto all fours. In a day, two days, a week, he will surely be crawling. At least that seems to be his intention. (I wonder if sleeping through the night is on the boys' agenda!?)

It always seemed like a cliché to say time flies. But it does move –- it runs, it leaps, it rushes through the 59th street station to catch the subway, it speeds past you on the 10 freeway in the fast lane. It goes by like the wind sweeping your hair into your face and obscuring your sight for a moment. Time, it turns out, is breathtakingly fast.

I don’t know what point I’m trying to make exactly, but I guess it’s this: I am amazed and appalled by how quickly my sons are changing. I can’t believe my little guys are already so big. I can barely remember what they were like two months ago. I can’t believe this is how fast babyhood goes. Some days -- like when I have to get up five times in a night to soothe crying babies -- I want to fast forward a few years. Some days -- like when August pushes away from me so he can go explore some new fascinating horizon -- I want to freeze time. Mostly, I try to savor the newness of each day, with mixed success. Sometimes I mourn the end of the day and other times I celebrate it.

Anyway, it's been six life-changing months of motherhood. And this is just the beginning.