I remember learning about Einstein’s idea that time is relative.  I’d heard all about the theory of relativity in school, but wasn’t until my brother read a book about Einstein that I really learned it.  And even then – and still now, actually – I didn’t really get it.  What it really boils down to (I think) is that the faster you move, the slower time passes.  And, conversely, the slower you move, the faster time passes.  And I am fairly certain that we’re talking milliseconds of a difference, but every parent can tell you that time is more fluid than we’d like to believe.

This spring break has been a perfect example
It’s been a complete whirlwind for us.
Parks.  Picnics.  Pictures.  Playground.  Planting.
Friends.  Family.  Fishing.  Fun.

It’s been really quitesovery wonderful.

Carter got a new bike.  One with a kickstand and a little bell.
And we brought it home and he hopped right on and rode it away.
It wasn’t so long ago that he was wobbling down the driveway.

As I watched him zoom by, time slowed down and he passed me in slow motion.
And I thought “Wow.  He’s a boy.  A big boy.  An all out scratches-on-both-knees-and-sweaty-hair boy.”

It seems like sometimes time rushes by like a swollen river.
Other times it seems to mosey along, a slow and steady little brook.

But then there are moments that feels like time just hiccups.

One minute you are here.
And then hiccup
Everything has changed.

Same ol’, same ol’.
Same ol’, same ol’.
Same ol’, same ol’.
Hiccup!
He’s a riding-your-bike-down-the-street big kid.

Hiccup!
She can read chapter books.

Hiccup!
He uses words that he didn’t know a week ago.

Hiccup!
She can run fast enough to keep up with the others.

And sooner than I’d please…
Hiccup!
He’s in college.
She’s in high school.
He’s in high school.
She’s in middle school.

Oof.

*****

In semi-related news, Lydia is now a training-wheel-free bike rider.

(One of my favorite parts is at the very beginning when Carter yells, “I know you can do it!”)