My littlest girl is tall for her age, but short compared to me. Of course she is; she isn’t three years old yet (although planning her “Fancy Nancy” birthday party for the first weekend of February is on my list).
When we walk together, I have to slow down or she has to speed up. I hold her hand and drag her across the parking lot while she runs to meet my walk. The she stops, bends down to look at a daisy in a planter, and I wait. Impatiently, most of the time. I wait for her a lot, now that I think of it.
I’ve spent more time with her in the bathroom waiting as she learns her own body’s signals to “go” in the toilet. I’ve spent minutes, hours, days (?) waiting for her to finish singing in the bathtub so I can bundle her up in a warm towel. I spend so much time waiting for her learning fingers to try to pull on her shoes “like a big girl”. And it seems like time wasted waiting my daughter to clean up her blocks, one at a time putting them in the box. Her little hands won’t hold more than one or two, unlike mine.
Shame on me for being impatient.
I’ve had friends wait for me to get back in shape after pregnancies so we could run together again. My husband waits for me most mornings to get back from my workout so he can go to work. My girls wait for me when I’m trying to finish a blog post and all they want to do is sit cross-legged on the floor with me and play a game. I’m not really a lingerer, but I’ve made many people wait for me in my life.
People have waited for my apologies, my words of reconciliation, my heart to soften. People have waited for thank yous that never came, for birthday wishes that were never said and for promises to be kept that were forgotten. I’ve made people wait.
So, the least I can do is slow down a bit and patiently wait for my still-growing toddler as she fumbles with her little socks or struggles to keep up with me. I should practice the art of waiting.
ah-ha.
the art of waiting. so good.
You inspire me daily.
Our world says over and over, “Go as fast as you can.” Yet God commands just the opposite, “Be slow.”
Be slow to anger. Be slow to speak.
Quickness comes in listening, yet listening is something that takes so much time.
Forgive my own ponderings in this comment. Your realization sparked conviction in my own life.
man, you are speaking my language! when i told my daughter yesterday “hold on just a minute”, she said, “mom, that’s what you ALWAYS say”…. and yet, i know i rush her to get her shoes on and get out the door.
another great post, but i expected nothing less.
Sarah, you have such a way with words and always seem to know what I need to hear in my life!
Thank you.
I SUCK at waiting and I alwyas feel bad about it, at the wrong time.
It is always AFTER I have been impatient with Hope or Naomi and yelled at them or been a total jerk that I then feel SUPER bad about not slowing down. Then I go apologize to them.
The pace my life moves at is not their fault and they, nor you, deserve to be the recipients of my piss poor planning and the stress/impatience that stems from it.
Thank you for your sage wisdom my dear and for putting it so well.
I love you
i’ve been such a grump today. so impatient. thanks for your insight. xoxox
this was so, so, so, so good for me to read.
It’s hard to treat kids their age.
Sometimes I expect too much, other times too little. Which means sometimes I discourage them, and other times, sell them short.
AHH, for that sweet middle ground.
Good one. Dang it.