Posts Tagged ‘year’

Dramatic Changes

5 June 2012

Dear J-

Photojojo has a service that takes your flickr photos from approximately one year ago and sends a few back to you in your inbox. It’s free (donation requested) so why not, right? I’ve been using it for the past few months and it’s proven to be a more reliable indicator of how the kids are growiing rather than the daily observations, as the incremental changes over a day are less revealing. I have a cousin whose husband is frequently in China for business; every time he comes back (he’s gone three or four months at a time) he says, ruefully, that his son is nearly unrecognizeable.

The biggest change to figgy it seems was changing her hair and growing out her bangs instead of trimming them. Yet that simple step seems to have taken her from a baby to a kid in the course of this past year. Likewise, she argues with some ferocity and valid points too, lost as we often are in our own leisure activities and not wanting to pay her the attention she deserves. The long days turn into long nights; she’s outgrowing a nap but they insist on having one at daycare, something that’s no doubt going to stop once she gets into kindergarten in the fall.

It’s strange that I’d ever be able to say that I’m old enough to be the parent of a kindergartener, but such is the steady accretion of years. Just like the magic of compound interest, we have gotten this far one hour at a time, one day, one year. Eventually of course I’m going to celebrate bigger milestones but for now that first day of school is circled in red and highlighted; I’m not missing that for all the work in the world. You forget how remarkable a year is until you see the changes in the kids.



Long and Short

11 June 2008

Dear J-

Woke up late this morning, probably saved only by the relatively thin cloud cover overnight — it was actually the dawn’s light that got me up and out.  Just like drowsing at the wheel, nothing quite gets you awake like a good shot of adrenalin and panic (did I really just drift over a whole lane without noticing?).  Still, not as bad as it could have been; there was at least one final in college I slept through the first hour of (then I was saved solely by my proximity to the test site, roughly half a block).

It may be the clock-radio’s fault; for the past few years I’ve been relying on an un-modern model, with a broken snooze function and a dial that turns off the alarm, on the theory that the greater the manual dexterity required, the less likely I am to be half-asleep when I have to manipulate it.  Sadly, this is often not the case, as I’ve since developed the skill of turning the alarm off and forgetting that I’ve managed to do so, although generally, my slumber gets broken up into five-minute chunks from there on out.

We continue our steady march, daily routines blending into weeks and years seamlessly.  The relentless progression of what feels like the same hour again and again makes me think that I’m not paying enough attention to the world.  Here’s figgy’s pictures from last month, seemingly no different from today, but there’s changes here beyond my imagining;  now steadier on two feet, now stringing together more syllables and longer babbles, now pointing and refusing and revealing ever more of who she is.  And three months ago?  The slow accretion of changes means that nothing’s visible on the micro scale.

Contrast your memory of how long summers were when you were ten with how long they are now.  How much longer is a year at 10% of your life versus now, a mere 3% of it?  Yet change is still everywhere, should you care to look for it.