December Already?

It seems that the older I get, the more desperately I wish I could stop the world for a minute and add time to each day.  I feel this urgency to fill each day and then,  as each day ends, that need flows into the next day.
The saying, "Time flies when you're having fun" could be "Time flies when you're cleaning, decorating and baking" or "Time flies when you're talking with friends" or even "Time flies when you're reflecting while writing!"
Where was my appreciation for time when I was younger.  I was constantly wishing for the next event in my life.  I couldn't wait until I turned eight years old because the number seven was an odd number and I didn't like being seven anymore.  Wouldn't it be fun when I finally graduated from elementary school and finally went on to middle school and high school.  Impatient, for the day I got my driver's license, my first job or my first kiss.  I remember wondering if I was ever going to find a husband or have children.
Now, those four beautiful children are all grown and moved out with children of their own and I no longer wish for the next thing in my life to hurry and come along.  I want desperately to slow down and appreciate each minute.  What happened to November?  Is it December already?

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