It's stunning to me how quickly our family pace changes when August turns to September each year.
It may just be indication of how seriously we take our summer downtime, but I fear it's also that we squeeze almost too much into our lives September through May.
The thing is, we love what we do -- all of us.
The Shakespeare and swimming, the pick up basketball games and women's groups, the library events and 10K runs.
We love it all.
It's just that there are four of us and 7 short days each week and sometimes, in order to get to do what we love, we have to hurry. Which is fine occasionally, but boy-oh-man, you wouldn't want to make a habit of it.
I am ever mindful of the need to sloooooow it down, catch my breath, reassess and say the occasional No, Thank You.
But sometimes, I need a little reminder. We all do.
Here were mine this week:
My Tall One's first formal Scrabble game.
Scrabble is a sloooow game, requiring patience, good humor and total presence.
I love it...
And this poem, by Marie Howe:
We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store
and the gas station and the green market and
Hurry up honey, I say, hurry,
as she runs along two or three steps behind me
her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.
Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?
To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?
Read the rest of the poem here... and subscribe to American Life in Poetry while you're at it.
Make time for it.
You'll be glad you did...