But here's the thing that really gets me. I was in a big box store the other day, trying to find a warm winter hat for me, and slippers for my boys. Sadly, the selection was poor because these things went on clearance weeks ago. It's January. In New England. We have at least 3 more months of winter ahead of us. The store had no less than 150 bikini choices though. And I should probably grab a swimsuit now, because if I wait until May, they'll be stocking the fall clothes, and there won't be any swimsuits left. Why are we in such a rush to move on to the next season? The next holiday? The next big event?
Slow down, America! Let winter have its season!
I've found myself thinking a lot about the pace at which we live. I am not big on new year's resolutions, but I do usually set a few goals for myself sometime in January. (Or February. I'm a procrastinator, remember?) This year I want to focus on being present. That's it. I need to learn how to appreciate the moment. I want to stop planning out my next 10 steps and making mental to-do lists while I'm playing with my children. I just dropped my toddler off at the babysitter's, and I have to volunteer at my older son's kindergarten class in about an hour. I would normally be out for a quick run right now, but hello?...it's -10' outside. I should also be checking things off my to-do list right now, but I'm sitting here with a cup of tea, writing a blog post. A long overdue blog post. (More on that in a separate post.)
There are so many pressures placed on us today, by both society and ourselves. Pressure to be successful. Pressure to look great. Pressure to have a clean house. Pressure to be the best mom, dad, friend, sibling, grandparent. (No one will ever accuse me of being the best housekeeper in the world, so at least I haven't caved to that pressure.) Pressure to cook the best, organic, free-range, grass-fed, sugar/preservative/sodium/dairy/gluten-free meals for our families. It's no small wonder that we often multitask. I was waiting at the bus stop with my kindergartner the other day. He was happily kicking a snow bank. I was rocking my toddler back and forth in the stroller with one hand, while updating my grocery shopping list on my phone with the other hand, and answering the occasional question from my 5-year old. I realized that I needed to plan one more meal. I looked up a recipe and added a few things to my list, then mentally planned out the rest of my morning...Clean up breakfast dishes, go to gym, go to grocery store, go to post office, home for lunch, put my toddler down for his nap, work while he naps and maybe clean a little bit if he naps long enough for me finish working before my kindergartner comes home, etc. Do you know what I should have been doing? I should have been playing in the damn snowbank with my kindergartener. Instead, I was a million miles away until the bus pulled up.
I do this all too often. I fold clothes while I'm playing Goblet Gobblers with my kindergartner (which is a great game, in case you're looking for game recommendations), and I make shopping lists while playing ball with my toddler. Incidentally, "ball" with my toddler involves repeatedly blowing up a small beach ball that he catches and immediately deflates, and then hands back to me saying "blow up." Again and again. I check email while I'm on the phone with people. There are so many people and things that deserve my complete attention, and I rarely give it to them.
Anyone who has kids will tell you that time goes by too quickly. At the risk of sounding cliche, I can't believe how quickly my kids are growing up. I'm afraid that I'm going to look down at my phone one day to check messages, and then look back up to realize they're teenagers. And that they no longer want to play ball or Goblet Gobblers with me. I don't want to wake up someday and realize that I'm old, and wonder where all the years went. If my life flashes before my eyes, I don't want to see clips of me looking at a shopping list while my children play at my feet.
I am going to slow down. I am going to be present. I am going to live in the moment. Who's with me?
