A Cautionary Story of a Very Busy Mom

• Sometimes children, without knowing it, are able to teach adults a very wise and important lesson in life. This is what will be about today.

The day I stopped rushing

When you live a crazy life, every minute counts. You constantly feel that you have to check the list, stare at the screen, and run somewhere. And no matter how you try to distribute your time and attention, and no matter how many different tasks you try to solve, you still don’t have enough time to do everything .

That was my life for two crazy years. My thoughts and actions were controlled by email notifications, ring tones, and a packed schedule. And although with every fiber of my being I wanted to make time for everything in my overloaded plan, I just couldn’t do it.

And six years ago, I was blessed with a calm, carefree, stop-and-smell-a-rose child.

* When I had to leave, she would start looking for a shiny crown in my bag.

* When I needed to be somewhere five minutes ago, she demanded to fasten her toy animal to the car seat.

* When I needed a quick bite to eat at Subway, she would suddenly stop to talk to an older woman who looked like her grandmother.

* When I had thirty minutes to run somewhere, she would ask me to stop the stroller to pet every dog ​​we passed.

* When my day was fully booked, starting at 6 am, she would ask me to break the eggs and very slowly and carefully begin to stir them in a bowl.

This carefree child was a real gift for me who was always in a hurry. But then I didn’t understand it. When you live a crazy life, your vision of the world becomes narrowly focused – you see only what is next on the agenda. And anything that couldn’t be ticked on the schedule was a waste of time.

Whenever my child made me deviate from the schedule, I had an excuse: ” We don’t have time for this .” Consequently, the two words I most often said to my little lover of life were: ” Come on, hurry .”

I started my sentences with them. Come on, we’re late .

And ended the sentences with them. We’ll miss everything if you don’t hurry .

I started my day with them. Hurry up and eat your breakfast. Hurry up and get dressed.

I ended my day with them. Brush your teeth quickly. Get into bed quickly.

And although the words “ hurry up ” and “ hurry up ” had little or no effect on the speed of my child, I still said them. Even more often than the words ” I love you “.

The truth pricks the eyes, but the truth heals … and helps me become the kind of mother I want to be.

But one day everything changed. We picked up my eldest daughter from kindergarten, drove home and got out of the car. It didn’t happen as fast as my eldest would have liked, and she said to her little sister, “ You’re so slow! “. And when she crossed her arms over her chest and sighed with annoyance, I saw myself in her – and it was a heartbreaking sight.

I was constantly pushing and pushing and rushing a little kid who just wanted to enjoy life.

My eyes were opened. And I suddenly saw clearly what harm my hurried existence is doing to both of my children.

My voice trembled, I looked into my baby’s eyes and said: “I’m so sorry I made you hurry all the time. I like that you are not in a hurry, and I want to be just like you.“.

Both daughters looked at me in surprise, and the face of the youngest lit up with approval and understanding.

“ I promise to be more patient ,” I said, and hugged my curly-haired baby, who was beaming at her mom’s unexpected promise.

Getting the word “hurry up” out of my vocabulary was pretty easy. It was much more difficult to have the patience to wait for my leisurely baby. To help both of us, I started giving her a little more time to get ready when we had to go somewhere. But sometimes, despite this, we were still late. Then, I persuaded myself that I would be late, only these few years, while she was still small.

When my daughter and I walked or went to the store, I let her set the pace. And when she stopped to admire something, I pushed my plans out of my head and just watched her. I noticed expressions on her face that I had never seen before. I studied the dimples in her arms and the way her eyes squinted when she smiled. I’ve seen other people respond when she stops to talk to them. I watched her study interesting insects and beautiful flowers. She was a contemplative, and I realized that contemplators in our crazy world are rare and amazing gifts. My daughter was a gift to my restless soul.

I made a promise to slow down almost three years ago. And I still have to make a lot of efforts in order to live in slow motion, not be distracted by the daily hustle and bustle and pay attention to what is really important. Fortunately, my youngest daughter constantly reminds me of this.

Once during the holidays, she and I rode bicycles for ice cream. After buying popsicles, my daughter sat down at a table by the tent admiring the ice tower she held in her hand. Suddenly, worry appeared on her face: “ I have to hurry, mom? »

I almost cried. Perhaps the scars of a past hurried life will never completely disappear, I thought sadly.

And while my child was looking at me, trying to figure out if she needed to hurry now, I realized that I now have a choice. I could sit and be sad, thinking about how many times in my life I pushed her… or I could celebrate the fact that today I try to do things differently.

I decided to live for today.

“No need to hurry. Just take your time‘ I said softly. Her face brightened instantly, and her shoulders relaxed.

And so we sat side by side, chatting about what the ukulele-playing-6-year-olds were talking about. There were even moments when we sat in silence, just smiling at each other, admiring the surroundings and the sounds around us.

I thought that my child was going to eat every last drop, but when she got almost to the end, she handed me a spoon full of ice crystals and sweet juice. “ I saved the last spoon for you mom ,” my daughter said proudly.

As I let the ice of kindness quench my thirst, I realized that I had just made the deal of a lifetime.

I gave my child some time… and in return, she gave me her last spoonful and reminded me that it tastes sweeter and love comes more often when you stop rushing through life like that.

And now, be it…
…eating popsicles;
… picking flowers;
… fastening the seat belt;
… breaking eggs;
…search for seashells;
… viewing ladybugs;
…or just walking…

I won’t say, ” We don’t have time for this! “. Because, essentially, it means: ” We don’t have time to live .”

Stopping and enjoying the simple pleasures of everyday life is what it means to truly live !

Author: Rachel Macy Stafford