The Mother Load

Published December 23, 2007
St. George Spectrum & Daily News

My oldest child turned 11 on Friday, and I participated in that age old tradition of motherhood by facing the day with a very loud, "WHAT?" It seems cliche because it's true, but I really do not know where the time has gone.

Except that I do.

Every mother in the world could tell every young person in the world to live life to the fullest because time moves fast, and before you know it, your oldest child is turning 11. The problem with this advice is that for young people, time doesn't move fast at all, so warnings fall on understandably deaf ears.

Long before my only became my older became my oldest, I have pondered on this disparity of age and time. Why does time move slowly for children and quickly for adults? What occurs that produces this change? Where, in fact, does the time go?

Santa took it.

That's right, folks. I am making the accusation of my own free will and in full awareness that this may create mass panic in the community. That jolly old soul with the rosy cheeks and the flying sleigh is the culprit behind this time/age phenomenon. He comes to our houses, wiggles down chimneys, leaves presents, and takes our time.

Think about it. The man manages to produce toys for every child in the world with a production schedule of just 364 days. He delivers said toys to all the children in the world in ONE NIGHT. Clearly, Santa has some kind of power over the space/time continuum. No one without that power (who isn't a mother...*badum ching*) could get all of that done. And really, he's old, but have you ever known Santa to age? I think not.

The twist is that while Santa's taking our time, he is clearly NOT taking the time of our children, and therein lies the answer to the problem. When you're a child, you believe in Santa and time moves on its leisurely course, cutting a lazy path through life like a river made of caramel. Once you stop believing, time whips past you like a bullet train (Polar Express, anyone?)

You might consider this an act of revenge on Santa's part. After all, I'd be pretty miffed if I brought you presents every year and then you doubted my very existence. Of course, we all know Santa's not the type to look to revenge. The time loss is more of a natural consequence to a very unfortunate choice. People who don't have time for fantasy and fairy tales and a little bit of whimsy simply don't have time at all.

While wasted years of unbelief can never be reclaimed, you can make a change now that will see you through the rest of your life. It's time to slow down the train and take a ride on the lazy river. In other words, it's time to start believing again. In years past, Santa gave me a music box, a pogo ball, and a pair of roller skates. This year, I give Santa my belief. The cool thing is that it's all I have to give him to get my time back.

Of course, I'll be adding a cheesecake to the cookies this year...just in case.