A Different Pace
Tonight, I went in to Anna's room to scoop her up for her nightly breathing treatment. Hauling 25+ pounds of toddler out of a crib is becoming increasingly difficult, and I found myself wondering how much longer we'll have to do these treatments--how much longer Anna will stay asleep through being picked up and rocked and kissed with a nebulizer mask against her face--how much longer she'll be sleeping in a crib at all. Admittedly, there are nights I'm exhausted and do not feel at all like dragging Anna out of bed when all I can think of is crawling under my own covers. Tonight, however, with my mind tuned in to the "how much longer" questions, I was keenly aware that this experience is something I will look back on and miss someday when Anna no longer fits cradled in my arms.
So tonight, I just looked at my baby--allowed myself to wear my "Mom Goggles" without restraint. I was struck by how beautiful she is to me, struck by the sweetness of the moment. I wished I could have captured the way the light in the hall fell across her long lashes and the way her full little lips pursed into a tired frown when I shifted her to put her back in bed. In short, I was so smitten I could barely stand it, and I felt exceedingly blessed.
I am too often apt to allow my brain to race--fretting about insignificant things or planning too far ahead or thinking about what I should do and how to go about it--while the rest of me sits in some sort of uneasy idle. It is difficult for me to stop spinning my wheels long enough to propel myself into constructive motion or to really soak in my blessings--not just acknowledge them flying by at break-neck speeds.
Much to my irritation, I tend to play volleyball this way. I overthink the game, don't anchor my feet, and make dumb mistakes because I don't calm my thoughts enough to allow myself to perform skills I'm capable of and have known for years now. I despise being a "head case," and the more I dwell on that, the worse of a player and the more of a "head case" I become.
Yesterday, I was in some sort of rare mood when I went to play rec league co-ed volleyball in Maize. I think "apathetic" would be a fair word to use. I would have been willing to go back home before the first game began, and I had no expectations of myself or my teammates. I resigned myself to playing the role of setter (which I usually resent to some degree) with no feelings either way, really. Interestingly enough, without self-imposed pressure or over-analysis plaguing my game, I found myself playing some of the best volleyball I've played in a long time. I was even able to back set consistently, which was a welcome kind of strange.
By the end of our double-header, I was really enjoying the game, and I was aware that my mindset (however nonconstructive at first) had helped clear out some of the crap (for lack of a better word) that too often gets in the way of me playing volleyball well...or living my life well, for that matter.
So, tying this all together, I was thankful for my Anna time this evening; thankful that I was able to slow my mind down enough to perceive joy in the ordinary. I hope to make this mental pace more of a habit. I have a feeling it would do me a great deal of good.
So tonight, I just looked at my baby--allowed myself to wear my "Mom Goggles" without restraint. I was struck by how beautiful she is to me, struck by the sweetness of the moment. I wished I could have captured the way the light in the hall fell across her long lashes and the way her full little lips pursed into a tired frown when I shifted her to put her back in bed. In short, I was so smitten I could barely stand it, and I felt exceedingly blessed.
I am too often apt to allow my brain to race--fretting about insignificant things or planning too far ahead or thinking about what I should do and how to go about it--while the rest of me sits in some sort of uneasy idle. It is difficult for me to stop spinning my wheels long enough to propel myself into constructive motion or to really soak in my blessings--not just acknowledge them flying by at break-neck speeds.
Much to my irritation, I tend to play volleyball this way. I overthink the game, don't anchor my feet, and make dumb mistakes because I don't calm my thoughts enough to allow myself to perform skills I'm capable of and have known for years now. I despise being a "head case," and the more I dwell on that, the worse of a player and the more of a "head case" I become.
Yesterday, I was in some sort of rare mood when I went to play rec league co-ed volleyball in Maize. I think "apathetic" would be a fair word to use. I would have been willing to go back home before the first game began, and I had no expectations of myself or my teammates. I resigned myself to playing the role of setter (which I usually resent to some degree) with no feelings either way, really. Interestingly enough, without self-imposed pressure or over-analysis plaguing my game, I found myself playing some of the best volleyball I've played in a long time. I was even able to back set consistently, which was a welcome kind of strange.
By the end of our double-header, I was really enjoying the game, and I was aware that my mindset (however nonconstructive at first) had helped clear out some of the crap (for lack of a better word) that too often gets in the way of me playing volleyball well...or living my life well, for that matter.
So, tying this all together, I was thankful for my Anna time this evening; thankful that I was able to slow my mind down enough to perceive joy in the ordinary. I hope to make this mental pace more of a habit. I have a feeling it would do me a great deal of good.
Excuse me while I go get a tissue. I can totally relate to the part where you talked about realizing our kids are going to be too big to cuddle. Thanks for writing, and please keep doing it! :-)
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