I’ve been eating a lot of cereal lately (and I don’t mean for breakfast).  And I know that’s not good. But there’s just not enough time to go around, it seems. When I’ve got a few minutes, the last thing that I want to do is actually spend time preparing myself something to eat.

Now, I know that this isn’t something that I should keep up, because the habit leaves me with two things: an unsettled stomach and a frazzled day.

I mean, the day’s hectic no matter how you slice it — between school & preschool drop-offs, meetings for work, projects to complete, and school & preschool pick-ups. Not to mention those necessary evils, like grocery store runs and bank deposits.

But eating a mug (not even a bowl, mind you) of cereal at my desk only causes the events of the day to come colliding together all the more dramatically. 

I know what I need to do. I need to take the time to stand at the kitchen counter long enough to slice a tomato, wash a handful of lettuce, and smear some hummus or something on some bread … and then take a seat at the table to quietly enjoy and DIGEST my lunch. 

In the end, I really won’t get that much less done. And I not only will have given my mind – and my body – a much-needed break, but also the gift of the moment. 

I require my kids to sit in one place when they dine in our home. I say things like, “Your body won’t be able to use all that good food to grow if you don’t SIT DOWN!” I’ve even taken away numerous meals when my children have stood up and walked around the room one too many times.

So why don’t I hold myself to the same standards of proper dining behavior? Well, I should. And I will. As soon as I finish this mug of frosted mini-wheats ….

Almost six years after diving-in to this whole parenting thing, I’m just now realizing that I don’t have to witness my child’s every breath to be a good parent. What a relief. I can finally feel good about going to the bathroom alone.

I swear that it was only days after finding out I was expecting my first child that complete strangers began stopping me in the grocery store to say, “It goes by so fast! Don’t blink!”

“Don’t blink.” That’s still one of my favorites. I get it at least three or four times a week. 

The ever diligent person that I am, I’ve always taken these comments to heart — meaning that I’ve spent a lot of hours in my children’s faces. I’ve worked really hard at being present and available to them. They have been the center of my life.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, so someone said. 

I think that all of those hours attending to my kids’ every whim, determined not to BLINK and miss one precious moment of their lives …. has resulted in two very attention-needy children. They’re really great, fun-loving kids. But they demand a lot of one-on-one time from us.

Naturally – since I’ve been so desperately trying to make the most of this fleeting moment in time, I’ve resisted sending either of my kids to preschool. 

Until recently. 

With a work schedule that demanded it, I had to give in. My daughter began preschool last week.

And guess what? Not only did she have a great time, but I was delighted to see that she really didn’t grow all that much in the five hours that we were apart. 

She enjoyed making some new friends, I got some work done, and we had a delightful afternoon and evening together after that.

Perspective is a good thing. I’m sure that looking back, the years when our kids are little do seem to go by in a flash. 

But the thing is, we can’t hoard time — no matter how hard we might try. So it’s best to just let go and enjoy each step of the journey, instead of fretting about when it’s going to end.

As for me, I’m finally getting up the nerve to blink from time to time. And it feels good.