Step Inside My Snow Globe

This morning Lucy and I were heading out of the house to get to daycare. She was being her typical putzy self, and I was being my typical impatient self. Mornings are my most difficult time of day, because it seems that each one is a struggle – she wants pancakes instead of cereal, she doesn’t want to get dressed, she doesn’t want those socks, she didn’t make it to the bathroom in time, she wants a barrette, she doesn’t want a barrette…you get the idea. It takes forever to get out the door, and it is infinitely frustrating.

So back to this morning. We were actually on time heading out the door. A small miracle, so I was determined for it to stay that way. We usually go through the garage, but this morning I had gone to the gym early and just parked my car in the driveway, so we went out the front door. Naturally, Lucy had to inspect everything on the front steps, while I am putting the stuff in the car, trying to hurry her along. It wasn’t happening. She was standing in the yard, looking around, paying no mind.

When I realized she wasn’t budging, I resigned myself to having to trudge up the yard from the driveway and go get her. Time was a-wasting.

As I walked up my gaze fell on the top of the bare lilac bushes, and I spied a flash of red. “Look, Lucy – a cardinal!” She couldn’t spot it, so I crouched down beside her and pointed it out. “It’s a boy one!” she said. We have a male/female pair that visits our yard from time to time, and we had just seen them both the other day and talked about how the red one was a boy and the brown one was a girl (ah, the cruelties of nature…). Lucy continued to look around and said, “Mommy, lookit!” She was pointing up the big ash tree, where I saw a little nuthatch staring at us. He is a frequent visitor to our feeder by the big window. “Cool!” I said. I looked around more myself, and I spotted little chickadees flitting around, and some juncos darting through the bushes. Snow had just started falling – that dizzy sort of snow that seems to float about with no urgency, and lands lightly on you, leaving hardly a trace. Crouching there in the yard at 7:30 in the morning with my daughter, snow falling, birds chirping…it was a rare moment of peace.

There are times I feel like my snow globe is constantly being shaken – always moving, no time, chaos… but it occurred to me that when I take time to just STOP – even for a moment…I notice so much more. Things come alive. I feel more at peace. And you know what? I was five minutes later for work. And the world didn’t end.

Sometimes it takes that same stubborn little girl who frequently shakes it up, to take the globe and SET.IT.DOWN. Take a look around and just be. Thanks again, Lucy.