Slow Days

Max walks. Not fast. Not hurried. Just walks. He stops and looks at rocks. Touches walls. Stops to see a birdie. Climbs on ledges. Squeals at anything that looks like a ball. Screams when he sees a plane. It's what you do at 18 months.

I walk with Max. We slowly walk most places, occasionally with me carrying him. I always thought I would be SO busy as a mommy. I'm sure I will be one day, but for now we simply walk slowly. I enjoy these moments of wonder. I enjoy walking to the library. I enjoy our Starbucks dates. I enjoy our tromps through the museum. Today as we walked I realized I'm a bit surprised at the enjoyment. I don't do things slow, I love action, I hate being bored. I usually am doing three things at once. Truth:: I still sometimes multi task with Max, but most days I am just slow with him. No where terribly important to be. No one to impress. No deadlines or projects to complete. I struggle on and off with not having those things, or more accurately not having those things define me. There is something to be learned in the slow for me. I, of course with all my might most days, want to rush it, but that's just it. It can't be rushed. It's found in the slow. Maybe at 35 I'm finally finding me or rediscovering me. The me that isn't bogged down with who I think everyone wants me to be, but just me.

Slow works right now. I fight the urge to compare myself to the other women & moms learning something in the fast & chaotic. It's there fast moment not mine. By 40 (when did 40 become closer than 30!?!?!) I want to thoroughly love the skin I am in. The first step is what I said earlier :: I'm enjoying the slow.

Some of our slow from today.