Learning the Art of Slowing Down
I'm prepping dinner, my toddler looks to me, arms extended, begging, "Hold me, mama." You know the feeling; we’ve all been there. It feels like the millionth time today and you just want to get. dinner. done.
She sees me chopping a shallot, mincing garlic, asking, “Two hands?” something I usually say when I explain that I need two hands for the task I’m doing. She begins running to grab her fruits on the play table in the next room. She starts chopping her fruit, slightly frustrated when it doesn’t immediately cut (relatable). *Chop* “Do you feel proud?” “Yes!”
She runs back in, asking to be held. I scoop her up with a sigh and she says, “Help please!” I fill the measuring cup with water, she pours it in, then the cream, she excitedly pours it with a little bit spilling over. No big deal.
I have to wash dishes; she’s clinging onto my leg, and I decide to get out the toddler tower. Why didn’t I take this out earlier?
I set her tower up and she climbs up. “Big helper, mama!” I hand her a clean dish, she places it in the drying rack, a perfect assembly line.
The guilt starts creeping up. Look how happy she is… Why didn’t you include her earlier? She’s only two, you should hold her more. She’ll only be little for so long. You’ll regret not holding her more when she’s a teen.
Once we’re done, she runs into the dining room and does a little dance, so excited to have helped.
I found this to be a reminder that, sometimes, the perfect remedy is inclusion. The spilled cream can be cleaned, the roughly chopped vegetables will still cook, the dish placed in a different space on the rack will dry the same, the dumped paprika can be wiped up.
Motherhood is made up of all these small moments. The tired arms carrying, the little hands helping, the opportunities for learning, the celebratory dancing. The cuddles when the sun is just peeking through the curtains, the comfort, the love.
Like us, they just want to be included. In the conversation, the task, the activity, what may seem like a miniscule blip in our day. It will take longer, you might feel tired and just want to get it done, but I promise you it will be worth it.
I am learning to lean into these small moments, instead of trying to hurry through them. I feel as if this is an act of rebellion from the societal expectations that we need to be constantly hurrying, hustling, onto the next. I know this isn’t always easy and I’m definitely still learning as a mom, but I hope you’ll join me in leaning into these small moments with your babies too.
