Kat Eye Studio

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The Speed of Time

Most of the time, we move through our days with an idea they are never-ending. They stretch out into a routine of day after day, week after week, punctuated here and there with a few big events. That illusion has been shattered for me with one big milestone this year: High school. 

It’s as if, all of a sudden, I am truly internalizing that my son is growing up. Growing toward gone. When the last four years of childhood started to get chunked up into grade levels… Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, Senior… I woke up to how little time we have left with him here at home. How fast it all has gone.

In the blink of an eye, from seedling to full grown tree.



I was talking to friend at work with a young daughter, having the typical “it goes so fast” conversation. But I told him parents with older kids don’t say this to give advice so much as they are in shock. We can’t believe it ourself. We are dazed and surprised that this seemingly endless phase of life is nearing an end, ending, ended. We utter the words in the hopes we can make sense of it, for ourselves.

My son is finishing up his freshman year in high school right now. With this year, we started talking seriously about college. Prep courses and requirements and grades and activities. What he might want to study. Where he might want to go.

And in the back of my mind, this dawning realization that there is so little time left.

In the last few months, I’ve started to shift my thinking and priorities around the idea that he has about three years left at home. What do I want that time to look like? 

It’s an interesting shift. I’ll own it…. Up to now I haven’t been the most “involved” Mom. I’m there, I’m supportive, but my kid has never been the center of my identity or my world. I have a career (two!) that matters to me and a partner to share the load.

But now, maybe more than ever, I find myself turning toward my son. Realizing career can wait, art can wait. I want to be there, on the front lines, seeing him transform into an adult. I want to be available, when he wants it, to listen or advise. To nudge him in he right direction. 

Control has ended, influence is all I’ve got left. And three more years of time.

It goes so fast. 

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Watch and Learn

Last week at the dinner table, we had an interesting conversation. In my son Brandon’s sixth grade health class they are talking about setting goals. Trying to get the kids to look to the future, no doubt, and recognize that the decisions they make and the actions they take affect tomorrow. As part of his homework, he needed to interview his parents about setting goals. If they do; how they do it.

“I don’t need to ask you this question, Mom,” he says, “I already know you set goals.” I was taken aback. We’d not really talked about goals explicitly, how did he know? “Because you wanted to start Kat Eye Studio and you did it,” he answered.

I got a little jolt. Brandon had shown, all too clearly, how much he watches and learns from me.

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After that jolt, I got down to thinking about it, and realized he was right. I talk about my goals. I’ll tell my husband and son at the dinner table, the one time of day that we are usually all together, “I think I want to do this new thing…” and then I go work on it. Usually by the time I bring it up I’ve been thinking about it for a while and am a couple of steps on the path to get there, but I talk about it all the same. Sooner or later, my goal comes to pass as if it were meant to happen all along.

OK, that’s cool, I thought. Brandon’s learned about setting and achieving goals from me. But, what else is he learning from my actions? Scary thought.

This conversation reminded me he’s watching. He’s been watching, all along. He sees the good and the bad in what I do, probably more than any other person in the world other than my husband. He’s part of my inner circle, observing from the inside of daily life. It was one of those moments that made me step back and think about the example I’m setting. I felt my responsibility as a parent a bit more keenly than normal. It’s a reminder of the influence that we, as parents, have over our children. They are their own people with free will, but they learn much of how to navigate their lives by watching us. Not listening to us. Watching us. Yikes.

But we learn from them too, don’t we? He has always been the best conscience. If I tell him not to do something and he comes back with, “But YOU do that Mom!” I have to stop and take notice. Even if lately it’s layered with pre-teen attitude, I have to admit: He’s usually right. And I have to take a step back and rethink what I’m doing, too. It’s humbling.

Brandon just turned twelve a couple of weeks ago. Some days, it feels as if we have a long journey yet ahead of us, through the teen years. But recently I realized that if he leaves at 18, two-thirds of his time with us is past. We have six years left, and he’s not going to want to spend as much time with us as the previous twelve. Our influence is waning.

But… it’s still there. Every day I have the chance to be the example. It’s scary and exciting all at the same time. I didn’t know I signed up for this all those years ago when we decided to have a baby. I don’t think I’m a good enough person to be a parent. Probably few of us really are.

But one thing I’ve found: Being a parent is certainly making me a better person, every day.

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Year Eleven

In this moment, eleven years ago, I was in labor with my son. I don’t remember much of that day, just flashes of images and feelings. I do remember it was a Thursday, like this year, because I remember watching Survivor in the evening while waiting to go in for a C-section after 21 or so hours of labor that didn’t progress. Isn’t it funny, that’s what I remember clearly? That’s about all you’ll get from me about the whole experience. While the birth experience seemed a big deal at the time, since then I’ve discovered it’s irrelevant in the whole. It’s the life experience that really matters for a child.

So here he is, eleven years old today. At times self-assured and confident in who he is, at times unsure and finding his way. On the verge of those teenage years, I see the mix of teen and child in him almost every day.

Brandon on the mosaic steps in San Francisco

He wants his independence but he still wants the comfort of his parents. He still asks me to snuggle before bed, enjoying the quiet time together. He will still grab our hand to hold when he’s not thinking about it. We don’t say anything when that happens, we just quietly enjoy it because sooner or later he will realize that he’s holding our hand and snatch it away. In his mind, he’s too old for that.

I see glimpses of who he is at his heart, and where he may struggle in life. There are some ways he is so similar to me or my husband, and we know how these traits have affected us. We know what we’ve had to overcome. How it affects him remains to be seen, I must remember. He is his own person.

Off on his own, reading while his parents enjoy the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art

As I do every year on this day, I pause for a moment to reflect on what it means to be a parent. Parenting continues to be the most challenging and personal job I’ve experienced. It’s funny how it’s just assumed you will grow up, get married and have kids. As if it’s the easy path because most everyone does it. But it seems to me, being responsible for the growth of a young soul as a parent is possibly the most challenging path of all.

I want to do a good job, for my son. He deserves it.

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The Green Door

Life has an interesting way of presenting us with choices. Sometimes they don’t feel like choices, but they are choices nonetheless. I was reminded yesterday, as I gave choices to my son. Choose different behavior, or lose computer privileges. Guess what he chose? Yeah, no computer time for him this week. Somehow, it’s my fault that he lost his computer time. Those of you who are parents will understand how this conversation goes. We had quite a bit of discussion about this topic, the rest of the afternoon. The afternoon that we planned to go out exploring as a family, looking for interesting things in our area to see and do. We still went out on the excursion, but there was a cloud of discontent hanging in the backseat.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t raining and it was a beautiful afternoon outside. I found some interesting things to photograph, and being out and about with my camera kept me calm and cool. I was excited to find this interesting green building, in the tiny town of Harrisburg, south of Corvallis. Even more interesting, was the green door of the green building. The shapes, color and subtle texture were fun to compose.

I have this sneaking suspicion though, that this image of the green door is always going to remind me of the day that I truly realized that teenager-hood is just around the corner. That parenting through the next few years is going to be so much harder than it has been up to now. That the choices I’m making now will affect what my son learns about how to navigate the world around him as an adult. Whether or not he learns to connect the dots: Regardless of what life presents you, you always have a choice in how you respond.

We all have to learn this lesson. Maybe again and again, for some of us. Somehow, this simple image of the green door is always going to remind me: When life presents us with a challenge, we always have the choice in how we respond.

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