The days are long, but the years are short

Parenting and urban farming - same same

Shortly after I had my first son, a friend with an older child said to me: "It feels like I was just there a minute ago. The days are long, but the years are short." Every day seemed to drag as I stumbled around, bleary-eyed, feeling like there was no end in sight as I thought of her words. If the days were that long - the years must be longer.

But, my friend was right - the unrelenting forward march of time meant that the exhaustion of baby mamahood was replaced by the exhaustion of toddler and preschooler mamahood. Somehow, I blinked, and my babies were running around. It took so long, yet also seemed almost instantaneous, just as she said it would.

This morning, as my naked two-year-old chased his brother around the house revving a toy chainsaw (complete with realistic chainsaw sounds!!!) like a tiny nudist Leatherface, I repeated those words - the days are long, but the years are short.

As we approach (this week) the fourth anniversary of signing the mortgage for this little urban farm, I am struck by how much trying to make a little homestead is similar to having another child.