The Long Days and the Fast Years

Those of us who are parents have all met her.

She’s the well-meaning woman in the grocery store who watches your child having a complete emotional collapse in the cereal aisle and smiles knowingly. Maybe your toddler is screaming because the banana broke in half. Maybe they’re lying face-down in front of the ice cream freezer, refusing to move. (My own child once staged a full protest in that exact location.)

She leans over and says the phrase every parent has heard at least a hundred times:

“Don’t blink. It goes so fast.”

I know she means well. I really do.

But in those moments, after a sleepless night and with a cart full of groceries and a child who has forgotten every social norm, those words can make you want to cry.

Because when you’re raising little kids, it doesn’t feel fast.

It feels endless.

The days are measured in snacks, diaper changes, potty-training accidents, negotiations over shoes, and the mysterious disappearance of every clean sippy cup in the house. You’re responsible for tiny humans who seem determined to test every limit you’ve ever established. Bedtime feels like a marathon, mornings feel like survival, and sometimes making it to lunch deserves a standing ovation.

Then something happens.

The kids get older.

And, somehow, parenting doesn’t get easier. It just gets…different.

Each of the stages of parenting brings its own joys, worries, challenges, and lessons in letting go.

Instead of scraped knees, there are wounded feelings. Friends say hurtful things. Homework becomes overwhelming. Sports schedules turn family calendars into military operations. Then they start driving - a milestone that’s equal parts exciting and terrifying. Relationships begin, hearts get broken, and suddenly you’re comforting someone through emotional pain instead of putting a Band-Aid on a skinned elbow.

Eventually they pack up their rooms, hug you goodbye, and leave home.

And somehow the hardest thing you’ve ever done becomes letting go.

There are moments when I’ve thought I’d gladly go back to potty training where the worst thing that happened was changing clothes ten times a day. 

Nobody was driving a car. Nobody was navigating heartbreak. Nobody was making life-altering decisions. The problems were messy, but they were usually fixable with wipes, snacks, and a nap.

Parenting has a funny way of making us nostalgic for whatever season we’re no longer in.

The challenge isn’t wishing away the hard parts. Every stage has them. The challenge is finding a way to appreciate the season you’re in while also admitting that some days are just plain exhausting.

It’s okay to love your children deeply and still need a break.

It’s okay to recognize the beauty of these years without pretending every moment is magical.

The long days are real. So are the fast years.

Both things can be true at the same time.

And for those of us whose children are grown, or nearly grown, perhaps there’s a lesson for us, too.

When we see that frazzled parent in the grocery store wrestling with a screaming toddler or negotiating with a preschooler who’s gone limp in front of the ice cream, maybe we don’t need to offer advice or remind them how quickly it will all pass.

Maybe what they need most is a smile that says, I’ve been there.

Because someday they’ll understand exactly what we meant.

But today, they just need to get through the checkout line.

Lori T. Howard is a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist who specializes in traumatic grief and loss. You can reach her at Lorithoward.com