So much time

Not that long ago, I had days with my newborn where I didn’t have time to shower, go to the bathroom, comb my hair.  One of those days, when Hallie was particularly fussy, my husband came home from work and asked if I’d picked up his shirts from the dry cleaners.  When I said no, I hadn’t even brushed my teeth, he gave me a credulous look.  “What did you do all day?” he wondered.

Well, I fed the baby on demand, 10 or 12 times.  Do the math – I changed at least 10 or 12 diapers.  And had to change the baby’s clothes a couple of times, when she spit up, peed on her onesie, had one of those explosive poops.  Yes, that is spit-up on my shoulder, and down my back; I didn’t have time to change my shirt.  The cat?  Nope, didn’t scoop her litter.

My sole interaction with another human being past toilet training age came when the UPS man delivered another package.  No, I didn’t write a thank-you note yet.

Fast forward 18 years.  That baby is off at college, and her two younger sisters, 12 and 16, have activities and obligations that often exclude me.  This past weekend, for example, the 12 year went to a bat mitzvah that started at 9:30 and went till 1:30 or so.  The temple is right in our neighborhood, so Nora walked herself over there, and by the time she stopped talking to her friends and came home, it was about 2:30.  She had to return to the party at 6:30.  Our only obligation, besides buying a present, was picking her up at midnight.

Sela has soccer practice on Saturdays, and since it is winter, there is indoor practice at a gym on the upper west side.  She and a few teammates take the subway there (this is so much better than driving the usual car pool) and back.  This takes about 5 hours total, since they go out for a snack after practice.  Sela comes home, showers, does homework, and goes out with her friends.  Our only obligation in all this?  Making sure there’s a cold Vitamin Water in the fridge.

Ok, I exaggerate slightly.  Nora has to have her Honey Bunches of Oats (no almonds!) and skim milk; Sela needs a clean uniform and a Metrocard.  But on Saturday, my husband and I spent the day lazily reading the New York Times, working out and catching up on the shows we DVR’d.  We went for a walk.  Had dinner with friends.  And when we passed a couple with a screaming infant, I actually missed that time.  A tiny bit.

This is an original post to NYC mom's blog.  Read Judy's latest blog at Veggie Mom.