I hung out laundry today. I wore gloves, but I still put my laundry up. There was just a bit of sun and too much good breeze not to pass up the chance. I’m finding that I catch my breath in the comfort of these mundane tasks. And a breath is what I really need today–home from traveling for the holiday, everyone recovering from the stomach flu, elizabeth still mourning the entrance of three teeth.
And I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately. In one sense, time can complicate my life. In another, it can bring rhythm and order to my day. And more importantly I want my children to know that I always have enough time for them. To use a very tired saying, I want to be present in each moment with them. If I am getting them dressed–then that is what we are doing. I don’t want to be getting them dressed while tapping my toe at the other three tasks that are on my list next. If we’re putting away toys–we’re just putting away toys. No hurry. No multi-tasking. Just being. Just doing. Just keeping it simple.
Sometimes I face my day like I do cooking dinner. "Roast goes in the oven. While roast is cooking wash and chop vegetables. Start rice water boiling. While rice is boiling, heat oil in skillet. Sautee the vegetables. While vegetables soften in the skillet, set the table. Stir vegetables. Put lid on rice. Check roast. Unload dish drainer. Stir vegetables. Warm bread…." It’s a balancing act. And sometimes it’s quite an impressive dance I do to get everything perfectly timed and on the table warm and good.
It’s a good system. But a system is not what I need to raise my children well.