Slow It Down and Breathe It In
I walk slowly here through these mothering days. There’s that saying, “The days are long, but the years, they fly!” Well, even my days go by like a whirl. I know you can’t chase after time, grab hold of it and make it stay, but sometimes I’d sure like to try.
So I go slow. Because all too soon, all these sippie cup-rinsing, puddle-jumping, sandcastle-building days will just be recollections, and the only way to remember these fleeting moments is to pay close attention to them. Right now.
When I’m there in the kitchen, sweeping up yesterday’s grime, I pause and gaze out the window. I stand still long enough to really see. The kids are out playing in the backyard and I can’t help but cherish this—the way my little girl runs barefoot across the grass, sunlight streaming through her hair. They way my boys cackle together and romp all carefree. They’ve all got this wild light in their eyes. I could memorize that, you know? To dwell upon it another day.
It’s a wonder that I get to be a witness to this at all. These children are pure gifts. I don’t want to wish them away or undervalue what I’ve been given.
There are times when all is chaos. The day barely begins and the oldest two scuffle over who had the coloring book first. I yell. The milk spills. And my littlest is hungry, so he just goes ahead and screams.
I want to rush through this but the Spirit whispers, “Go slow. I’m here, even in the hectic, and soon all these mothering days will be folded up and done.”
So I take a deep breath and scoop up the wailing one. We dance. And I learn how to treasure the moments, even the messy ones.