She grabbed my hand. Not now, is what I wanted to say, but instead, her fingers intertwined with mine without hesitation. I knew her questions would come next. My mind gravitated toward my to-do list, a mental blueprint of all the things I felt compelled to do. Drive to the store to get groceries. Pay the bills. Do the laundry. Write. Exercise.
“Momma, can we color? Please. Please.” My five year old runs with her steel pail as crayons fell which left a trail of minor marks on our carpet.
“No. Not right now. I have to make dinner.” It’s 4:30 p.m. and I have only and hour before my husband comes home.
“But you said you would color with me yesterday. You promised.” She is now on the edge of tears and is standing in the kitchen armed with various coloring books.
“Yes. I know, but Momma is busy right now. I will color with you later.” I give her my best motherisdoingsomethingveryimportant look and start removing pots and spices out of the cabinets.
“You are always busy Momma. You always say that.” She said this with a conviction I didn’t recognize before.
I stopped. My daughter’s reaction surprised me and her words fell inside of me like a line of dominos. Am I really too busy to sit and color with my daughter? My reluctance to color with my daughter revealed a deeper truth. Unless something works toward a goal or a red line through my to-do list, I am less likely to participate in it. Her request and my reaction reminded me of my meditation class where the instructor asked us to eliminate the word “goal” from our breathing exercises. The idea sounded revolutionary to me. No goals? No to-do list? How would I embrace the uncertainty of not focusing on an outcome?
The bigger question becomes this: What about my life compels me to keep crossing items off my list? Isn’t the living in all of the items not on that list?
Coloring with my daughter definitely wasn’t on my agenda. But as we sat side by side, I looked over, saw her smile and say “Your coloring with me Momma. That makes me so happy.”
I reached over and gave her a kiss on a cheek. And my list fell off my lap.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Sometimes moments arise to make us rewrite and prioritize our “to do” list, and what a gift it is!
This is lovely. We all need to allow ourselves more of this, whenever we can, while we can. Life is very precious. Most of the joyful moments don’t come from checking off an item on a list.
I need to let my list fall sometimes too. I’m glad your daughter felt comfortable enough to tell you what she needed.
Yes, yes, yes. I need to do this. I was just thinking that I may take off the last 2 weeks in December and just focus on my home, my kids, my health. I mean, I know that’s a few months off, but it’s there, on the horizon, and it’s doable.
My oldest says the same thing to me, “You always say you’re busy”. I sometimes fail to realize the impact it can have until I’m knocked upside down with a reminder and realize that none of that is as important as what’s in front of me.
An achingly familiar scenario.
I am glad that you heard her, Rudri. I know you are a wonderful mom….sometimes we just need a reminder that the little things are those that matter. 🙂 xo.
I am so guilty of this. Often my 7 year old will ask if I could watch a movie or show with him. But I always seem to have to find something else to do. They remind us all the time to slow down. Sometimes I am good at heeding his signals, sometimes not. Good for you for stopping to color with your daughter!