It’s strange how these things go. Through the 40 (37 in my case) weeks of pregnancy on a first baby, time drags, it slows down, yet once that tiny bundle is placed in your arms, time races forward as if to make up the difference. It’s a real blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time, though some of those endless sleepless nights feel like the clock is going backwards. I’m suddenly the owner of an 18 month old, a boy, not a baby, and I’m terrified to blink again in case he heads off to college while I’m not looking.