Childhood felt long partly because so much was new. Try new things and a year stops feeling like a blur.

Memory stores novelty and skips repetition. A summer at eight felt enormous because nearly everything in it was happening for the first time, while a year of familiar routine compresses down into a few scenes. Time is not actually speeding up as you get older. The number of first times is dropping, and the year gets thinner to remember.

Put one unfamiliar thing into each month: a route you have never taken, a food, a class, somebody you do not know yet. They do not have to be big to register. Novelty is what gives a year edges you can find again.