C’mon. Get out of the car. Let’s go. Come down for dinner. Finish your food. Are you ready yet? Why isn’t everyone packed? It’s past bedtime, we can’t do any more stories, go to sleep.
It can sometimes seem that we are rushing everywhere, always. We are hurrying them along, trying to wrap things up, trying to get somewhere. Sometimes these deadlines matter—flights or getting to school on time—but even then…why do we act like it’s the most important thing in the world? Why are we in such a damn hurry?
We are rushing, always, as if we’re not rushing through their childhood, as if we’re not filling their childhood with stress and anxiety. We would do well to remember the Alabama lyrics,
I’m in a hurry to get things done
Oh, I rush and rush until life’s no fun
All I really gotta do is live and die
Even I’m in a hurry and don’t know why
So slow down. Pause. Take a breath. Because one day, they’ll stop asking for stories. They’ll pack their own bags. They’ll sit down for dinner without you. And the rushing you thought was so urgent will seem so small compared to the moments you missed.