Monday, October 10, 2011

Day 10: Choosing Rest

I was again faced with a decision. Rush or rest?

It seems so obvious when printed out. Who would choose to rush when they could choose to find rest? Well, to be honest, I would. It feels productive. Efficient. It means that there are more checks on the list. It looks . . . impressive.

But it's also exhausting.

This morning, as I rushed the children through their school work and prodded them to follow their checklists, I glanced at the empty boxes on Little Miss Avery Kate's "to-do" list. She still needed to do a reading lesson. I could call Drew over to sit with her. I could ask Bethie to do the job. Even Aidan would gladly set his math aside for time with Miss Kate. It would free up some time for me to get in some serious rushing. And then I'd feel really productive. Efficient. Exhausted.

I called my pixie over and set a few books out on the table. "Why don't you come sit on my lap, Sweetie?" I not only knew it would be cozy, but I also figured that having a child on my lap would keep me grounded. I'm not tempted to jump up and fold laundry when weighted down by a six-year-old. (This is perhaps a poor illustration. I'm never tempted to jump up and fold laundry.)

She gladly climbed up and snuggled in. "Which book would you like to read to me?" I questioned.

She cocked her head and said, "Read me a story."

I smiled. "Well, sweetie, I'll read to you in a minute. But right now it's your turn to read to me."

She erupted in giggles. "No! I want to read, Read Me a Story!" When I finally figured out that it was a book title, I too, joined in the belly laughing.

But we kept going for the fun of it. "No, sweetie, it's your turn to read . . . " More belly laughs. It was good, good laughter. The kind I almost missed out on in order to rush away.

We finally stopped giggling and settled in with our book. She read and read as I kept my arms wrapped 'round her waist. I kissed her head, felt her toes curl around my legs. I savored the moment. And I chose rest. It was the right decision.

It usually is.

Read about my thirty-one day challenge over here.
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  1. My daddy. No, MY daddy. MY daddy.
    NO, MY DADDY. MY DADDY . . .



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