Ten years ago today, I became a mommy. Via C-section, a tiny (I know, all babies are tiny…but this one really was!) little girl weighing only 5 lb. 15 oz. came out of my tummy and into my life! I always wanted a little girl and at 25 years old, I couldn’t believe that I was a mommy.

I had a really good 9 months. I had that pregnancy glow, along with “bay-dar” (what I refer to as baby radar) that intuitively clued me in to other pregnant women. I never threw up from morning sickness – a misnomer since the nausea lasts all day; I craved grilled cheese and Starbursts; I had an aversion to meat, salad and other people’s offensive perfumes; and I played Enya to my tummy with huge oversized earphones. Aside from being in a car accident at 22 weeks in which my car got totaled (the baby and I were fine; I got chiropractic care and massages for the remaining 18 weeks along with a new washer, dryer, fridge and a delicious, yet overpriced, dinner at Michael Mina with my insurance settlement), I had a fairly uneventful pregnancy. And I only had one day – I remember it perfectly – when I felt like my hormones took over and I cried all day long.

I had been watching some Susan Sarandon movie where the daughter goes off to college. That was it. With the thought of my baby one day going off to college, I started to sob. And sob and sob some more. I practically crawled into our office and up onto my husband’s lap so he could cradle me, my 9-month-big-tummy and all. He looked at me, not quite sure what was wrong or what to do, and asked me if I was okay. Through my tears and crying-induced hiccups, I muttered the words, “She’s going to go to college…one day!” He looked at me like I was Sally (from When Harry Met Sally, when she said she was going to be 40…someday!), with a mixture of compassion and incredulousness, and just held me as I cried. I blame that episode on my hormones – clearly I was out of whack – but truth is, I was worried about something that was at least 18 years away.

When my daughter was a baby, I remember seeing the actor John Leguizamo interviewed on some afternoon talk show. He had just had a baby, and his wisdom regarding parenthood was “The days are long, but the years are short.” Being a full-time stay-at-home-mom, I totally related. The days dragged on as I tried to fill them with playdates, Gymboree classes, walks in the stroller, naps (for her, not me), laundry, making my own baby food (yes, I was that mom – never once bought a jar of baby food) and sitting on the floor for hours playing with toys and books. I longed for the hour my husband came home so we could debate about who had the harder day. Each day felt like an eternity, and yet paradoxically, it was flying by.

And here I am with a 10-year-old, who has less time living at home (SOB!) than the amount of time she’s has been alive. Mr. Leguizamo was right – time is flying! But the question is…how do you slow it down? I don’t have magical powers to wave a magic wand and sprinkle pixie dust (although I do own a magic wand and pixie dust, true story!) to actually slow down time. But what I realized is that I do possess is the ability to make every moment count. And that has made all the difference.

Over the years, I developed the wisdom of my mindfulness practice, which acts as my magic wand and pixie dust in providing me with tools to be in the moment. Mindfulness is being present and living with awareness, attention and intention. It is amazing that when you practice this presence of mind, your experiences are heightened and time begins to slow down because you are actually in whatever you are doing, rather than just thinking about it. Being intentional and having quality time with your children, as opposed to merely managing them throughout the day, deepens your connection, relationship and memories…and makes it feel like the clock is beginning to drag its hands.

In fact, just now while sitting at my computer, my daughter called me up to dance with her to one of our favorite songs. For a moment, I started to say no because I had good momentum and didn’t want to lose my train of thought. But then I remembered my intention: to be with my daughter during those moments that I could never get back. I stopped what I was doing, ran upstairs, and we had a super fun, awesome dance party. Moments like this make me feel like it’s not all rushing by with the speed of light because I was being mindful; I was living with attention, intention and awareness, and I was loving every bootie-shaking second of it.

I am confident that being present with my daughter, as often as I can, will help with the sadness I’ll feel when she one day goes off to college (in 8 years!). I will be able to viscerally recall a whole slew of memories that were intentional acts of presence. This doesn’t mean every day is a dance party; clearly, I’m a mom just like you, who has moments that suck. But then I acknowledge with wisdom that those moments will pass, and I remember to breathe, focus on my gratitude and be here now. My little cute baby girl is 10 today. It’s inevitable that time will continue to fly by. However, I know I have the power to determine the quality of each moment I spend with her. But just in case, I think I’ll keep that magic wand and pixie dust close by.

Written by Joree Rosenblatt

Joree Rosenblatt has a Master’s in Counseling Psychology and is a mindfulness educator in the Bay Area. In addition to working at a K-8 private school teaching mindfulness to students, she teaches her original curriculum to adults, and onsite in corporations, in the Fundamentals of Mindfulness and Mindful Parenting. Joree’s true passion is raising her two daughters, mindfully of course…well, most of the time! Joree practices mindfulness every day, and when all else fails, she remembers to take a moment and just breathe.

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