Maybe Bobby McFerrin was right

In my parenting circles I hear (and say) a lot of things about the energy it takes to raise a child. Phrases like "I wish I could bottle that energy" and "Life is so hectic with kids". Now, let there be no doubt that both of these statements are true. Monday mornings I would certainly like to take a swig from a bottle labeled "Zoe's energy". And there is no doubt that weekday mornings no longer involve languishing in front of the Today Show with my coffee while I ponder what outfit I might like to wear that day and still getting to work on time. Truth be told, I am a tired maniac most mornings, happy to make it to work before noon, and have little time to turn on the shower much less the TV. But slowly I am learning a very important lesson from Zoe which is simply this: Don't rush to catch up with her, slow down to see her. Yeah, I hear ya. Anyone with a kid, and it probably does not matter what age that child is, is thinking that slow down is certainly not part of their lexicon unless it is in the sentence "I can't wait until little Johnny is off to college so I can slow down." But I really think the slow down method can work so I've slowly been trying to implement it.

An example: We take Sadie (the dog who comes with her own set of issues) on walks often. If it is just me and Sadie we can take care of business pretty quickly. We walk, she sniffs, and if she starts falling behind she has a choke collar (and no, I'm not suggesting choke collars for children). Now let's do the same walk and add Zoe. Every stick becomes a source of fascination, every leaf needs to be collected, and often the direction we are going in, even if it's in the direction of back home, gets called into question. Before the slow down plan this would be annoying. Every walk I average about 3,345 times saying "Zoe, let's go!" or "Stay with mommy" (talking about myself in the third person since I've had Zoe will be another post). So lately I have been wondering why I do this. Maybe that stick is interesting. Maybe it's from a rare tree. It doesn't matter, the point is, as a harried adult with too much Internet, meetings, bills, cell phone calls, and obligations, I've lost the ability to stop for a second and enjoy the simple joy of a stick. I complain about the rain while Zoe asks me to put her car window down in a monsoon so she can get "soaking wet". I clean while she wants to play. I rush while she savors.

Where is this all coming from you might ask. Well today, while I was griping about the sixth day of rain that doesn't come until just as I'm leaving work to get Zoe thereby leaving us trapped indoors at night, Zoe says to me, "Mommy, just be happy". Yeah, you'd get a plan pretty quick too.

So, if you are at my office and see me in my pj's (as Zoe went to school today; it was pj day) surrounded by a collection of really cool sticks, you'll know why. But don't get there too early, I am slowing down my mornings.