putting my coat on.

yesterday i went to feed janet’s cat but wasn’t sure if i needed a coat.  janet is our neighbor, & she & frank are on a mini-vacae on the gunflint trail this week.  we watch their cat, who has kidney problems & a new canned cat food, while they’re gone.  i don’t even know cat’s name.  isn’t that sad?

anyway, the coat question brings up a deeper issue, i realized as i crunched over tire marks cast in frozen slush.  my original thought, & the one i’ve nursed my whole life, is to just go quickly & get it done, & move on to the next thing.  if i just run over quick, i’ll not need a coat.

but i’m kinda tired of moving on to the next thing.  “quick” has had my number far too long.

so, i put on my white columbia that my mom bought me, tucked under the hood, & went out the door, leaving everyone else inside.

& then i exhaled.  nice & deep, & for effect.
why, i said to my slow-moving self, do i have to go so fast all the time?
what if i walked slowly, if i took in the way my center of gravity shifts when my foot slides on the ice? have i entered an imaginary race somewhere?

because i feel like i’m always doing, & never getting enough done.

part of this, i realize, is having a baby in the house again.  i’m in the perpetual state of putting someone itty bitty at the top of the list.  i get that, planned for it, count on it.  but the larger segment is a heart issue, something God snuck up on me & nudged in to view: you go so fast, try to get so much done, because you’re afraid you’re not good enough if you don’t.  

& the inverse:  the more i get done, the better mommy/wife/human being i am.  if i get the laundry folded every day & the children fed something green & the mess (the creative, holy mess!) picked up & the blogs read & sneak in a page in leify’s baby book?  yep, that’s right.  then i’m good enough.

& no, i don’t actually say these things to myself, & they sound really lame when i read them on the screen, but the sad thing is that i believe them.  i own them, have them written on the tablet of my heart.

so sped on i have.  & where has it gotten me? well, i’ve gotten an insane amount of stuff done, making my scandinavian roots proud. but even my scandinavian roots are worn out.

& truth be told, i don’t want to base my happiness on whether or not the laundry gets folded.  because a lot of days it doesn’t.  & to hinge my value on clean underwear?  yeah, not workin’ out for me.

so, i’ll slow down a step.  or two.  babies’ll do that to you.  God’ll do that to you, when He wants to get your attention & let you know you’re okay just the way you are.  He should know;  He thought you up.

so, you’ll excuse me if i take a step back?  if i put my coat on & walk slowly to feed the cat instead of racing over & racing back again?  if i take the time to slow dance my bundle to sleep, patting his little bum & nuzzling his fuzzy head?  if the crumbs stay & the phone calls go unreturned sometimes, if i check in with His opinion before racing around to accomplish?

if you’d like, there’s plenty of room here.  i’d love the company.

9 thoughts on “putting my coat on.

  1. I’ll join! 🙂 I stressed all day today getting my house picked up (fail) before my inlaws showed up so that I’d avoid the “dissaproving look.” My time is better spent loving on the kids, and teaching them to help, instead of moing out of my warpath.

  2. Pingback: 7 Quick Takes

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