Pause

Sometimes - not very often, I'm afraid - I remember to STOP hurrying. I remember not to glorify busyness. For me, I'm sure there are a host of reasons why I zoom about - to avoid having to chat too long or too deeply with . . . whoever . . . the mom at preschool, the woman at church, etc. Too caught up in my world and to-do list, I don't want to be distracted by other people and their messy lives. And perhaps staying busy helps me feel important when that very deeply buried and wrong voice says, "You're just a mom now." But when I'm rushing my children, I feel awful about it. And when I'm floating above myself and seeing myself actually sometimes say the words "hurry UP" to one or all of them, I just feel ILL. It seems almost like a sin against childhood. Chase came along, and he was as goal-oriented as I am, so that was never a problem. Then God sent me Cole. The dreamer, the wanderer, the absent-minded professor, the little Zen Buddhist. Holy cow. And now his little sister has come along and she's just like him. Possibly worse. Smart as a whip, but she will NOT be hurried or distracted from the ten thousand things she's interested in every moment of the day.

This week, Tim has been in Seattle. Which generally is fine, but you forget how helpful it is to have your husband take over at football practice so you can put the little people to bed on time. Or to wash the dishes while you're giving one of the kids their 100th snuggle or rubbing an anxious sleeper's back. Monday was a taxi day - run the kids to the bus stop, run Caroline to school, run errands, run to get Caroline, run home for lunch then back to the bus stop for early Monday drop-off, run Cole clear across town to a playdate, run Chase on an errand, run back to pick up Cole, run home to heat up a pizza, run everyone to football practice then . . . SIT. For two+ hours. In the RAIN. With two little kids. Who have to go to the bathroom. A lot. At a football field. Then run home, feed three hungry kids AGAIN, and try to get them settled down to bed while you wash all the wet muddy clothes.

So perhaps that was why today, I suddenly hit PAUSE. I taught my class and then, instead of rushing off, I lingered and chatted with Ignatius (who teaches with me) and his wife. Made arrangements to help them with their move. Then I picked up Caroline a few minutes later, and I let her dilly dally and talk without rushing her. She sauntered around the parking lot singing to me from a song she "wrote" on construction paper with Halloween stickers. We lingered by the car and talked about what we wanted to do. She suggested we go out for CAKE. After some back and forth, I convinced her to go out to lunch somewhere that serves regular food AND cake. We drove over to the old Amphora greek restaurant in Vienna. It was filled with older people eating lunch. My favorites are the old blue-haired ladies with their noonday glasses of Chardonnay. And Caroline and I just sat. We ate, and talked, and colored. We split a piece of chocolate pie. And she colored some more and chatted and sang while I had another cup of coffee after we paid the check. When we left, she stood on the front stairs of the restaurant and sang more songs. We didn't get home until after 2:00. It was magical. At 4:09, the boys will get off the bus and it will be chaos - homework, and papers to sign, and snacks, and lunchboxes with half-eaten sandwiches and spilled juice boxes to wipe down, and Cole calling "Mom, where's my leaf project?" and Chase asking "Mom, how do you factor to prime again?" and Caroline just calling for Mom because the brothers are suddenly occupying her mother's attention. And football will be 45 minutes later, and will last until dark. And. And. And. But at least I remembered to hit pause today for a little while. And I remembered to be thankful for the ability to do so.