#15. I am grateful for this "oh, it goes so fast" time
Yesterday we had Stake Conference. After a post about my love for Sundays, I'll be honest, I couldn't keep myself from watching the clock. Something about a gymnasium, metal folding chairs, purses of strangers too close to Rylee's reach, and two restless children that, well...the ONLY thing that seemed to be standing still was TIME... oh, and my husband who took way too much Benadryl in the morning. He wasn't moving much either. The poison oak has attacked once again. But I guess that story will have to wait for another month because I AM SO NOT GRATEFUL FOR POISON OAK! Its toxic, oozing ugliness is not allowed in my grateful days.
So, back to the gymnasium, I mean, conference. I found myself in that hurry it up, hurry it up, let's just move this right along mode. The same kind of mode I get in when the kids are eating breakfast and Russell is picking at his plate sooooooo slowly and we're running behind getting out the door. Or the mode that comes with night after night after night of flying solo with tucking the kids into bed. On those long, exhausting days it's tempting for me to rush right through the stories and sneak a few extra pages into a page turn (gasp, I know, but Russell never lets me get away with it, try, though I have) to "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, boy, sit down. And the boy did. And the tree was happy." Contrary to what the sweet little ladies tell me in the grocery store, "oh, enjoy it, it goes so fast!" some of my mothering minutes have felt like decades. And that is what I learned from stake conference this weekend that was all about temple work. Plus, I learned that next Stake Conference we're leaving our house thirty minutes earlier to get seats that at least give us a fair shot at the possibility of being reverent.
It hit me with some force. I was wishing away precious time. What a shame it is to miss out on all the happiness that is found in slowing down and enjoying the leave gathering and the playing king of the forest and the swinging of the branches and even in giving apologetic smiles to the older sister next to me that Rylee swiped lipstick from. She likely had children of her own, all grown now. And come to think of it, there was something in her smile back, just like those ladies in the grocery store, that kindly reminded me to just be grateful for this once in a lifetime, even when it feels like a lifetime, time.
So, back to the gymnasium, I mean, conference. I found myself in that hurry it up, hurry it up, let's just move this right along mode. The same kind of mode I get in when the kids are eating breakfast and Russell is picking at his plate sooooooo slowly and we're running behind getting out the door. Or the mode that comes with night after night after night of flying solo with tucking the kids into bed. On those long, exhausting days it's tempting for me to rush right through the stories and sneak a few extra pages into a page turn (gasp, I know, but Russell never lets me get away with it, try, though I have) to "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, boy, sit down. And the boy did. And the tree was happy." Contrary to what the sweet little ladies tell me in the grocery store, "oh, enjoy it, it goes so fast!" some of my mothering minutes have felt like decades. And that is what I learned from stake conference this weekend that was all about temple work. Plus, I learned that next Stake Conference we're leaving our house thirty minutes earlier to get seats that at least give us a fair shot at the possibility of being reverent.
It hit me with some force. I was wishing away precious time. What a shame it is to miss out on all the happiness that is found in slowing down and enjoying the leave gathering and the playing king of the forest and the swinging of the branches and even in giving apologetic smiles to the older sister next to me that Rylee swiped lipstick from. She likely had children of her own, all grown now. And come to think of it, there was something in her smile back, just like those ladies in the grocery store, that kindly reminded me to just be grateful for this once in a lifetime, even when it feels like a lifetime, time.
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