Why It’s Okay I’m Not Always Present With My Baby
By: Katharine Chan, Msc, Bsc
Tags: Parents, Parenting, Baby, Motherhood, Parenting Advice

Why It’s Okay I’m Not Always Present With My Baby

Photo by Luma Pimentel on Unsplash

The sage advice seasoned parents give

“Cherish these moments while your children are still young because, in a blink of an eye, they’ll be all grown up”

I’ll admit I’ve said something like this to other parents a bunch of times without even thinking about it.

I’ve heard it from other parents (most often those with older children) so many times that it’s ingrained in my list of phrases to say during those dreaded small talk sessions.

Then I get the usual:

“Oh time will fly by and before you know it, she’s talking back to you and asking for more data on her phone.” “It feels like yesterday they were in diapers and a hug would solve all their problems. It’s like in a blink of an eye, they’re teenagers with so many bigger issues.”

Well, screw that because, in the last 18 months or so, the time has been moving the speed that it is at. It feels like it’s been 18 months, not longer, not shorter, but precisely 18 months.

It’s not flying by, but it’s not crawling either.

Why? I’m busy living in the moment with my daughter.

When she’s awake, and I’m with her, I’m really with her. My attention is on her, and I’m putting myself in her position, her perspective of the world, and really trying to understand how it is like to be a toddler.

I’m empathizing with her through every thought, feeling, every new experience, discovery, and sensation.

I’m not thinking about the dishes or what to make for dinner, or what show to watch on Netflix. I’m single-minded, at the moment, enjoying the simplicity and beauty she sees in the world.

A minute in my daughter’s life relative to the number of minutes she’s been on earth is a huge percentage of the time.

A minute in my life relative to the number of minutes I’ve been on earth is a small percentage of the time.

So when I’m with her, side by side, analyzing the edges of a plastic toy, those minutes feel like hours just like it does for her.

20 minutes of toddler life immersion, my mind is Playdough, and I need a break for some me-time.

I need to return to my fast-paced adult life where there are sharp corners to turn, enticing social media stories to indulge in, and real-life conversations with friends to catch up on.

So when she’s safe, playing by herself, I take that moment to check my phone, get a few sips of coffee in, read a paragraph in my book, write a few sentences in my blog, or whatever I feel like I can do in a few minutes.

She knows I’m not giving her attention.

She knows I’m not focusing on her. She whines and makes a fuss.

So what?

I’ve just spent what seems like 20 hours of living life as a toddler. I need and deserve that small moment for myself where time actually flies.

I will quickly check to see she’s not grabbing a knife or something, and I finish that text message.

I finish reading that paragraph.

I put a period in that sentence, and I swallow that sip of coffee.

She’s fine and dandy. Once I’m up for the slow-motion toddler world, I put everything aside (physically and mentally), and I’m in her world all over again.

The cycle of entering and returning to those fast and slow-paced worlds have balanced out the speed at which my life is moving.

That is why 18 months feels like 18 months.

Becoming a parent has muted the effect of aging on my perception of time. It’s like how the older I get, the faster time seems to move since time is perceived as a fraction of how long someone has lived.

So as a parent, I get this opportunity to slow time down so that my life doesn’t just happen in the blink of an eye. It’s about balancing how much time I spend in each world so that time neither flies nor crawls.

However, if I put 100% of my attention and focus on my daughter every minute of every day, time will swell up like a pregnant woman’s cankles, and the days will seem like weeks. I’ll want to shoot myself.

I’m not old enough to want time to feel that slow. For the sake of my sanity, I give myself moments to live in real-time. It’s about balancing how much time I spend in each world so that time neither flies nor crawls.

So to those who tell me to savour these moments, rest assured, I already do. I’m hoping to break the generational cycle so that when my kids are grown, I will be telling young parents,

“Children are a gift of time travel. I finally learned to slow down and you will too.”

So Readers, how often do you take the time to be present with your kids?