He's two today

I woke up this morning with the distinct feeling that time had been warped and the past two years had been unfairly compressed into a few short moments. It wasn't really right. It felt like I'd been cheated out of the time I'd been promised. It wasn't anywhere to be found either, this time thing, not found in the bottom of my purse or under the low lying chair in the living room or in the giant laundry basket in the hallway. I could not find it anywhere.

I have a distinct memory of a starry eyed little baby boy being dropped onto my stomach, of holding him like a baby doll prop in the hospital room before taking him home, and then after that out of nowhere there are those watercolor renderings of all these moments; crawling, walking and that first kiss given to me, his mother, all splotched and blurred together onto a thick, lovely piece of parchment paper that I have little memory of painting, let alone framing and hanging on my wall. Why is that?

I wonder if the next few years will fly by so quickly or will time eventually settle and slow down, even if just a little. Can I be allowed to savour more moments as they happen, stretching them out like taffy, letting them stick to my fingers, wiping them on my shirt where they'll leave their gooey trace? Can I put them somewhere and come back to them later? Where is the secret to placing all of this now in a special cupboard and stowing it away for a more appropriate moment when life isn't so crazy and full of mundane issues?

Anyway, enough about me and my ramblings. Excuse me while I go shout out something from the top of the roof: Happy Birthday little dude. You're two, you rock and I love you!