When my parents first got their dog, Delly, I thought they had gone mad. My mom doesn't like dogs, at least thats what I thought. But they were living in Austin and we were all on the east coast and they were lonely. So they got a dog. I remember when she was a puppy and they would take her out to do her business, they would say the phrase "Hurry up, delly...hurry up!" real fast and sing-songy...they said it was her trigger to go ahead and pee or...whatever.
Sometimes I hear myself telling my girls to hurry up...but then I can't figure out why. There are those days when we are late to preschool or an appointment and I simply don't have time to wait for them to buckle their own car seat belt. But a lot of the time, we are going to the park or Target or someplace where time isn't a factor. Still, I hear those words come from my mouth...."Come on girls...hurry up. Put your shoes on, hurry up. Let's go to the car. Close the door. Come on! Hurry up!" Why do I do that?
I read something in the booklet that their Sunday school teacher sends home each week, and it said instead of telling your child to hurry up, give yourself a chance to slow down! Let your child set the pace.
Oh. I'd never thought of that. A chance to slow down. Now there's a novel idea.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
hurry up and be patient
Todays topic:
a mother
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3 comments:
sometimes we get so caught up in the busyness of life that we forget that there is time to be patient. i struggle with being patient a lot.
p.s. i love how you added that profile picture.
-Tyler
I couldn't agree more, Em. I hear myself say, "Hurry we're going to be late" like it's their fault...:( I find myself getting impatient with their dilly-dallying when they're taking the time to enjoy life and God's beauty. Thanks for the treasure.
And we wonder why our kids say things like, "Come on!" or "We better hurry up, so we won't be late." Oh, that I could stop the cycle of my stressful pace. I'd much rather them grow up knowing a mother who walks to the car, while pointing out the new blooms on the bushes, and looks for the bird that's chirping, instead of rushing, and banging into each other, falling down, scraping knees, and ineviditably ends up dropping everything on the way to the car. And then, you're another 10 min. late, because of course you have to go back inside to get a band aid. I mean, you might lose the leg without a band aid to hold it on. =)
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