As if the approaching day when the number that represents my years on this planet begins with three isn’t enough to remind me that I’m getting old, my son is two, and I can’t think of a better metaphor for the blur that life has become than that.
Sometimes I go crazy with numbers, not because I aspire to be Rain Man or Jim Carrey’s character from “23″, but because manipulating numbers sometimes helps to put things into perspective. For example, Mason is two. That means he only has 16 more birthdays before he’s an adult. He has completed 1/9 of his childhood already, and is 1/6 of the way through his preteen years. Sounds crazy, but with how fast these last two years went, it’s just another constant reminder that every second counts – and these years are no less finite than those seconds. While his little brain is trying to process everything that’s happening, ours is trying to process everything that’s happened – including these last two years.
If you would have asked me two years ago where I thought I’d be at this point, chances are slim that I would have said blogging about my son’s birthday. Then again, if you would have asked me two years before that where I thought I’d be in two years, my answer surely wouldn’t have been, “Bringing my baby home from the hospital.” But, once again, looking at how numbers can put things into perspective, four years ago we weren’t talking about kids, two years ago we were bringing one home, and today we are celebrating his second birthday. I still sometimes find myself struggling to come to grips with this new concept of time that children introduce to us.
Thankfully, cameras give us the ability to freeze time, if only for a split second, and allow us to go back and relive those seconds as often as we want, whether they’re over the span of a year or a lifetime.
As we celebrate Mason’s second birthday, and begin looking ahead to the next year, every new word he says, every new thing he does, every new accomplishment for him, will continue to be that constant reminder that time waits for no one and every second counts. After all, you only get so many in a year.
31,557,600 to be exact (assuming the extra slightly-less-than 1/4 day to account for leap year).
Which, if you multiply by two and divide that by the total number of seconds in 18 years, and multiply by 100, you’ll find that Mason has already lived slightly more than 11% of his childho…ok, ok, I’ll stop…