A Lazy Thought
There go the grown ups
To the office,
To the store.
Don't grow up
It takes a lot
I don’t know the author of the poem, I was introduced to it by a college professor. I like it though. Back in college, I thought it was nice…it takes a lot of slow to grow. A nice little thought.
It’s harder in practice. It’s hard to slow down. I was raised by parents whose measure of a day was how much you accomplished. Adam has tried valiantly to infuse my life with spontaneity from time to time but I have mostly not learned my lesson. I strive for efficiency and tasks checked off the list.
It mostly just makes me cranky.
This week we are full tilt into “The Summer Schedule” that I carefully crafted because I love making plans. I like to run a tight ship. In theory. My ship’s crew isn’t cooperating though. I promised them we would be done with all work by 2:30 every afternoon. Considering the fact that until 11:00, I am involved with their swimming practices and lessons, I thought this was a magnanimous amount of free time.
The problem is, my children don’t have the vision. They don’t realize that if they’d just zip through their tasks, we’d all be done. We’d all be happy. We’d be so darn productive!
I’ve been steadily getting grouchier, less patient and downright mean, as I have to pester my children to stay on task. I threaten and yell and say sarcastic little comments and no one, including me, wants to be around me.
Today (uninvited) the words to the above poem sidled into my head. I realize the error of my ways. Sadly, it's a lesson I seem to always need to be relearning. I’m going to just relax. I’m still going to give my children their tasks to complete but if they want to take all day, that’s OK. Being The World’s Worst Mother isn’t helping anything or anyone. It’s going to be all right if I don’t get all my work done. I’m going to enjoy this (all too brief) time of sunshine, swimming, ice cream cones and flip flops with my children.
At least I’ll try. It takes a lot of slow to grow.