TIME SLOWED DOWN.

time

before holden, life was rushed.  my days passed like the blur out the window of a speeding train, my face pressed against the sill attempting to discern whole objects out of the hazy greens and blues.

life revolved around getting to where i was going.  getting to work, getting to the next meeting, getting home to my husband, getting to dinner, getting to bed, a ceaseless list of deadlines.

of course, i enjoyed my life, but i failed to notice all of life around me and truly enjoy every minute.

but holden changed this.  he taught me to look at time with slow eyes.  we swim in every minute, every second of our waking hours, soaking up every last drop.

almost every time we make our way up the front walk after being away from the house, holden stops me, begging to be put down so that he can draw with chalk, dig in the dirt, or search for and clean spiderwebs off of everything in his sight (his latest obsession).

despite an impending nap, a quickly approaching dinnertime, or the multiple baskets of laundry that seem to be forever waiting for me,

i always stop and play.

we stay at the park slightly longer than initially planned, take the long way home on our morning walks, and leave the light on a little past bedtime.

the true urgency to self-imposed deadlines has been realized.  there is no race.  there is no finish line.

and through this slowing of time, i’ve discovered things about life…

that we live directly under a flight path meaning that airplanes fly overhead nearly every ten minutes, that the swaying trees look like a rippling sea when the wind blows and it’s slightly mesmerizing to watch, that you can always find a bug or insect no matter where you are, that the moon is out during the day more often than you think, and that those extra ten minutes in bed reading in the morning are worth more than you think.

so these days, when my body sinks into the bed at night, my mind isn’t racing with whats, whens, and whys

because each and every day is enough.

oh, cleaning and scrubbing, but children grow up, as i’ve learned to my sorrow.  so quiet down cobwebs.  dust go to sleep.  i’m rocking my baby.  babies don’t keep. – ruth hulbert hamilton


  • http://www.harvestingkale.com/ Randalin

    Slowing down is perhaps the most amazing gift Kale has given me.

  • Heather Barnes

    Sometimes I forget this and get caught up in the rush of the day. This thought is always on my mind and a reminder to enjoy these moments with my children. I have to say you two are adorbs in your matching stripes! Gorgeous

  • shaynah

    aw i love this post! and no wonder we connect so easily, i feel the very same way! (oddly similar in my recent post!!!) keep soaking that sweet blue-eyed boy in, you won’t regret it ever!

  • http://jackiemrussell.com/ Jackie B.

    Such a great post, especially the paragraph of all the things you didn’t notice before Holden. I agree with all of them. It’s so amazing what little people notice and we don’t ever see. My little ones have taught me so much about life. It’s pretty awesome.

  • Jodie Menhenett

    Beautiful post and so lovely that you are noticing these beautiful simple things. I’m reminding myself daily to ignore my to do list a little and let my children distract me.

    • holdenonbaby

      Thanks Jodie! Although it isn’t always possible, I like to try. I like how you said it…”let my children distract me.”