Where does the time go?
Somehow, it’s been four whole years since Miles was born. I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t for both the conversations I’m capable of having with him now and my body’s rate of deterioration (NOTE: I made it through a good 38 years of my life before “feeling my age”; I am now reminded of it with literally every step).
I’m also thinking about how long I can realistically keep maintaining this blog. As Miles grows up, I expect him to take the reins of his own story, but I also realize there’s an age at which this will transform from a cute remembrance of days past to a near-infinite well of embarrassment for the young lad (hell, maybe it’s already there). Personally, I’d love to have a record of all the almost certainly crazy things I said and did in my first few years of life. Will Miles feel that way? Who knows? (I mean, I think he’ll laugh at the poop entries at least?) I have, at this point, chronicled four whole years of Miles’s life. Five seems like it might be a good place to let it go (or at least change course).
But then, there’s also the perpetual (and, frankly, tired) question of adding another child to the mix. At some point in the last year, wistful conversations about “having another one” became “OH GOD WE’RE GETTING OLD AND HE’S GETTING OLD IF WE WANT TO HAVE ANOTHER ONE IT HAS TO BE NOW.” When/if that happens (NOTE TO MY MOTHER: definitely more “if” than “when” currently), maybe I start the whole process over again, with the occasional guest appearance from the older brother.
Wherever the next year takes us, there’s at least one member of our family you can pretty reliably expect to keep up with here. Miles had an amazing fourth year. I can’t wait to see what the fifth holds.