Thursday, October 20, 2016

Moving at the Speed of Four

Hi! If you're stopping by from the Blog Hop, WELCOME! I am happy to have you and happy to have this reason to push my writing. I tend to fall into a habit of posting once a week or every other week. When I participate in hops like this, I push through the inertia...and write.  If you're new to Roaring Mama Lion, you might want to start with 13.1 Things About Me. Take a look around...I hope you like what you read!

I have one other small plug - I recently started writing for Sonoma County Moms Blog - if you're not reading, you should start now ;). Come check out our little band of crazy, tired, sleepless moms trying to the best we can and maintain some semblance of sanity.

This week, my best friend send me an article that is totally on point with my life right now.

In the article, "It's Hard for Them, Too," the author talks about how it really is hard to be a tiny human.  While the author seems to talk about a child much younger than my son, this article resonates a great deal with my life with a #fournado.

I am constantly at battle with myself. When do I parent and lay down the law, place high expectations on my son and let him know that I am the mom? When do I back off and try to meet him where he is

Are those two approaches mutually exclusive?

We have rushed mornings.  I can't do much about this. I need my kids to sleep as late as they can, for their health and for all of our sanity.  That means that we run through our morning routine at lightning speed.

Otherwise known as, "I need milk. I want to wear my train jacket. Where's the book I wanted to bring? Why do I have to go to school? How many days until I don't have school anymore? What did you put in my lunch? I said I wanted peanut butter. Why did you let Sissy get dressed after me? Why...I forgot."

The faster I need to leave, the slower he moves. It's a fact of nature.

For now, Sissy does what I need. She's up and ready to leave in less than ten minutes. But the boy? Oh...



I thought about what he actually needs. Does he need his mommy panicking and basically throwing him into the car? Or does he need patience and grace?

When I actually had time to sit and think it through, the answer felt pretty darn obvious.

I stopped telling him that we need to hurry.  

He gets up, he runs through his morning routine. A bowl of cereal with milk and a spoon. The occasional glass of milk on the side. He gets dressed when I go get Sissy.

The change did not result in miracles. I still pull up to work feeling a bit panicked. I still pray that the traffic angels will work overtime for me.


We leave a smidge earlier than we used to, because morning routines in the life of a four-year-old have a bit too much SQUIRREL to move at lightning speed.   There are questions to ask, trucks to race, and it will always take a bit longer than an adult would like to get out the door.

Even though I didn't gain much time in the morning, I did gain a lot.

I gained my son's smiles.

I gained singing in the car on the way to school, instead of whining.

Worth it.

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