Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Slow

We were out running errands the other day when Genevieve asked, "Mom, why is everyone working at Starbucks in such a hurry?  Why is everyone everywhere in such a hurry?"  Astute observation, I'd say.  I'm definitely a foot tapper when waiting in line.  I want to get through running errands and sitting in traffic on a hot day as quickly as possible.  I want to rush through all of that, so I can get home and ease into slow.  Slow is my happy pace. 

I'm stacking up our stay-at-home-all-day days high during these last weeks of August.  School days just around the corner.  Genevieve will be in first grade full time and I feel myself missing her already.  So many tightly scheduled days in our future.  So much rushing.  So much growing. 

Things happened fast in the open space of summer.  Genevieve learned how to ride her bike without training wheels (after much dedication and hunched over sprinting from Drew).  She lost her first tooth.  She learned how to tie her shoes.  She took a deep breath to hold on to her bravery, focused her eyes, and concurred the monkey bars.  No rush.  Milestones unfold.

Marguerite realized that she could hug and kiss me and say bye to me without freaking out and crying.  She realized that her daddy is the bees knees and plays chase dad and king of the slide and mermaid and the pony.  She sees him rush through a busy day of work so he can slow down and play in those sunny low light hours of evening. 

In the dark early morning hours I leave for New York.  Two long flights and five full days away.  Just me and my mom.  I'm holding my breath just thinking about being so far away.  Another milestone.  I'll take a deep breath to hold on to my bravery.  I'll take a deep breath to hold on to my excitement.  I'll take a deep breath to hold in the smell of their hair. 

Today, we'll take slow. 

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