Time is like a handful of sand, the tighter you grasp it, the faster it runs through your fingers. Anonymous My 20’s: That runner’s high! I love it! I feel like my feet are six inches above the pavement and I could just keep running and running forever. I stretch my runs longer and longer for pure pleasure until I just have to turn back--reluctantly. I’m empowered and kind of in awe of my energy. My 30s: My pregnancy decade. Three kids. I jog behind a stroller with the firstborn; walk with a toddler while pushing a stroller with the second born; walk slowly with my third, stopping so he can drop pebbles down the drain or pat the doggie. I go on occasional walks or slow jogs on weekends or days when my husband is home with all three kids. But I often choose to nap. My 40s: My oldest babysits for thirty minutes so I can go out for a walk. I call it my “by-by walk.” “Mommy’s going for a by-by walk,” I say to soothe my youngest, who cries
Life is a series of snapshots meant to be recorded in words. A writer and photographer shares hers.