Today I am moving slower.
Only a few things to be done on the “to do” list, none of which are bound by deadline.
So I can stop, sit, sing, “Where is Thumbkin?” with a little girl on each knee, welcome the big ones back in from the yard with a hug, calm a conflict with a snuggle on the wooden floors.
Time is not my own today. It is their time and God’s time and our time as a family, and in that there is peace — for what else is there to be done than what should be done?
Today I am giving myself time for virtue and patience and enjoyment. I am baking bread and letting them help with flour-dusted fingers.
I am cleaning the kitchen and doing laundry and playing Ring Around the Rosie — even if all that gets done is that we all fall down.
I am settling into the in-between space that welcomes interruption and dust on the floor and toys scattered beneath the couch. Where children grow right under my feet and time stands still — but just for a moment.
And if ever I feel like these small people gifted to me are in my way — keeping me from doing all the things I am meant to do — well then, I have wandered off path yet again. I veer back singing, “Where is Thumbkin”:
“Here I am. Here I am.”
I settle back in to what matters.
I take on less so I can take them along.
And together we go in peace.