“Walk faster, please” I mutter to him.
“Please keep up, ” I ask.
“Pay attention and walk more quickly,” I command.
“C’mon and pick up your speed,” I forcefully suggest.
“Hurry up!” I eventually yell.
Do you see how my manners and sense of compassion dropped off very rapidly and my tone quickly escalated?
And, guess what?
He still didn’t walk faster; he kept walking at his slow-as-a-snail, but happy-as-a-clam pace.
I continued to nag him, nonetheless, and we arrived at our destination (pick-up line for sister) in plenty of time to get her.
The thing is, that when we arrived, well, both he and I were aggravated. Can you make an assumption how you think my oldest feels when Mommy and her brother pick her up in a frustrated huff? She becomes a grump, too — all because of the two of us.
And all of this is my fault.
It happens a few times a week, and the fact is that my son, well, he is free from blame on this one.
I would like to attribute blame to my zodiac sign because I am an Aries, and my staple mode of being is “fast and furious,” moody and impatient, but that would be me setting a horrible example of how to take responsibility for your actions.
In truth, I’ve been this way my whole life. On any given day I’m “Speedy Gonzales”. But, this rushing of my life, the moments that make it up, and the people in it is a turn-off. The only one not turned-off by my behavior is me — that is until I am, which surprisingly almost always occurs post-raging-rusher-mode.
My fast-natured, serious, and somewhat aggressive way of being has gotten me far in life, and at present, it sure helps to make sure bills get paid on time, ensure that my children are never tardy for school, and that any and all work or home tasks get completed by deadlines (actual or self-imposed).
But, rushing those that I love — when all would turn out fine if I didn’t rush — that’s silly, unnecessary, and dare I even say, dumb.
Love takes time.
Learning takes time.
Growth takes time.
And we are not just talking about your child; we are talking about you as well.
Time takes patience.
Time takes effort.
Time takes presence.
Enough of our ridiculous and fabricated statements that “we don’t have the time” to make challenging minutes into educational opportunities.
Enough of rushing our children through the gamut of every human emotion without adequately explaining or coaching them.
Enough of “mean mommy” showing up merely because I am exhausted and exasperated by the idea that I have to actively participate in draining yet defining conversations with people half my size.
Give me a mother who indeed contends she doesn’t have time to spare for her offspring and I will claim she is a woman who is incognizant of the blessings within her presence.
I don’t want to be that mother. I never have and never will. Still, I aimlessly rush my children, my husband, and myself, all of the time.
I even rush my dogs to take their craps. How shameful is that?
I’m a woman who rushes her dog’s shiitakes.
I’m a woman who rushes around neglecting her husband.
I’m a woman who rushes her self-care.
And I’m a woman who rushes her inquisitive, thoughtful, innocent, and loving children.
BUT THAT’S GOING TO STOP.
And it’s going to stop as of today.
Today I will go at your pace, which will also be my pace, because the only pace I want to keep, now and forever, is the one that keeps me right next to those that I love.
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