Herding turtles

(A-Z Challenge: H)

If I had a nickel for every time I followed the kids around urgently imploring them, "Come ON, guys. We need to go. Now. NOW!" I'd be retired, and I'd hire a nanny to do it for me.

We do that song and dance every morning getting dressed. Getting to the breakfast table. Getting in the car. Getting out of the car. Despite my best deep breathing and "kids will be kids" mantras, I feel like I spend a lot of time urging them along.

And they resist. When I pick them up from their after-school program, they want to finish up their art projects, tell something to one of the teachers, watch the other kids finish a card game, and then meander over to their cubbies to grab their stuff. They draw smiley faces on the dust on the car before they get in. And when we get home, I'm up and out of the car with arms full of stuff while they sit in the back seat and contemplate life for a few minutes before heading into the house. 

It drives me nuts. I used to stand out there, freezing and annoyed, waiting for them to leap out and come with me into the house. Now I just walk away and tell them to be sure to lock up.

My edgy focus on time and to-do's doesn't constitute urgency on their part. And although I sometimes get frustrated, I'm actually glad that they're just taking things in. I do need to get us all to school and to work on time, and I need their cooperation, but I don't need them to feel the stress of being perpetually whisked along. 

It feels a lot like herding turtles. Try as I might to scoot them along, they move at their own pace. I can create a sense of urgency, but they can only move as fast as they can take everything in. So if they need to stop for a minute to watch the construction next door on the way out to the car, they will. If they want to slither along on the carpet pretending to be snakes coming to dinner, they will. And if I try to change their pace too often, or too much, we all lose.

That goes for pretty much everything else, too. Getting in shape is a slow and steady job. Paying off debt happens a few dollars at a time. We know where we want to go, and we wish we could rush on ahead, but we can't. And we shouldn't. Imagine everything we'd miss along the way.