Here is the thing. Lo awoke at 6 am this morning, wide-eyed and ready for the day. Momma on the other hand was a bit more groggy. Once Lo gets up, I usually can pacify her for 25-30 minutes in our bed before we really must bounce up and face the world.
To be honest, our typical mornings spent “cuddling” in bed are selfishly for me. I hope to possibly sneak 5 or 10 additional minutes of shut eye, while she watches Doc McStuffins on Disney. When that does not quite work out, I find myself laying there usually stroking her hair, my mind racing and placing unnecessary pressure on myself. Looking at the clock and beginning to feel anxious I silently tell myself, “10 more minutes.” I have already created a deadline. A deadline for my daughter and I. I have already made a mental list of chores or errand to-dos that I must accomplish. It is so unfair to Lo that as she looks up at me, fixated on me, all I can do is look at her and think about what needs to be done.
Lately I have realized that I do not enjoy such little snippits in time. I do not live in the moment.
You know, the moments where there are no cell phones or laptops. Moments of quiet and contentment. Moments where the only form of entertainment is my little one’s face starring at me, examining my structure and pointing forcefully at my nose and into my eyes. Moments when there is nothing to do but be present, breathe, live. I do not like to admit this. It makes me really sad actually, but unfortunately it is the truth. I am not here writing this Blog to create a perception of a false reality of my life or any parents life. Maybe you can relate?
Sometimes I wish I could live my life like a child. They see their surroundings and the world untouched by perceptions, hate or even harsh truths. What is in front of them is what the see. There is no complexity about it. They do not worry about what must be done or time wasted. They truly live in the moment.
When I watch Lo play, I see how engaged she is with her current reality. Unlike me, who sits on the couch worrying about work, even though it is a Saturday. I fearfully login to my email to make sure I am not missing anything and can prove my commitment and reach. Although, the truth is because of this action I am missing something. What I am missing out on is the very little thing directly in front of me who is so content in herself and current surroundings. She in her little unknown wisdom teaches me so many things about little moments and life.
I am sad. I am angry. Why do we create such unnecessary pressure on ourselves to always do more, be more? Why are we not satisfied with the present? Why can’t we live in the moment?
So, this morning as Lo got sleepy eyed and needed her morning nap, I did like I always do. Gave her the binkie and her blanket, placed her in her crib, shh shh and walked away. I sighed in relief for an hour to myself to do what I wanted or needed, whether it be to curl back up in bed, clean-up the kitchen, pay bills or make a grocery store list. But, shortly after I heard her cry.
Every single dish in the house was dirty and I swear every piece of clothing laid in two heaping piles in the laundry room waiting to be folded. But, this morning, when I heard her cry, I walked away from it all. Instead of returning the missing binkie to her mouth and patting her back, and yet walking away from her again. I chose her. I chose the moment. I picked her up from her crib and I rocked her in her room for much longer than I typically would. And, you know what she did? She stared at me, soaking me in. What was she thinking? “What is wrong with you Mom? You hardly ever do this.” I felt so ashamed.
All she every needs is always right there in that second. So, I stared and smiled back. Kissing her forehead, humming and truly cuddling for the both of us. We said more and shared more in that moment, just quietly rocking.
Slowly she fell back asleep, and I placed her in her crib. As I walked away I thought, “Gosh, I needed that.” Once I allowed myself to give her all of me, I realized in essence that she gave it all right back. Nothing else that typically races through my mind of to-dos or have-tos would or could ever fulfill me like she does in the moment. It really is true how the little things are the best things.
Have a beautiful weekend, friends. And, my goodness, if you can, find your moment.