Pull Over Madam

“Pull Over Ma’am….”
Not words anyone that I know would like to hear on a bullhorn behind the car. But come to think of it, maybe hearing the command at a really high decibel is the only way that we’ll ever move our foot from the gas pedal to the brake pedal and pull over.

You see, we Moms Of Twins (I used capital letters on purpose, in case you’re wondering) are quite used to traveling fast in the passing lane, or at the very least speeding in the regular lane. As a rule, we try to avoid the breakdown lane in addition to the one marked for slow vehicles. That’s just not an option for us. We have lists to conquer, meals to make, scrapbooks to update, bathrooms to clean, noses to blow, calls to return, mountains to conquer…. you get the idea.

So work with me for a minute here. What if you DO get out of the fast lane? What if you were to put your blinker on and politely mosey on over to the far right and let the world dash by at warp speed while you slow down? Can you imagine it? Let me paint a picture for you.
Scene 1: The Fast Lane.
Setting: The kitchen
Day: Any weekday
Time: Late afternoon

The day is moving along and I am crossing things off from my to-do list like a champion. Milk? Check. Laundry? Check. Emails? Check. Supper? Ouch. Not quite a check. Darn. Gotta move faster. I think I can just start sautéing these onions real quickly before the kids get in from school in 3 minutes. Oooh, and while the onions are cooking, I can throw in another load of laundry. Or fold that first load. Wait, the onions are burning. Oh no, here come the kids.

“Hi Mom you wouldn’t believe who got in trouble on the bus today and Logan wasn’t wearing his seat belt like you told him to and my teacher got mad at us again and I didn’t eat my applesauce because you gave me applesauce yesterday in my lunch, why do you always do that two days in a row?”

“I was wearing my seat belt I just unbuckled it to take my coat off and Mom wait till you see my spelling test and guess how many pages I have for homework tonight and what are we having for supper I don’t want to hang my coat up and why do you make us go to choir practice?”

“Hold on kids, I’m busy burning onions for your dinner, so why don’t you get out your homework and start working on it? You can yell out any questions you have and I’m sure I’ll hear it from the laundry room over the washing machine while I fold these last few things”.

That’s the fast lane.
Got it?

Scene 2: The Breakdown Lane
Same setting, day and time as the Fast Lane

I’m still barreling through the day. No flies on me, mister. This time I’m even crossing things off the list using a Sharpie. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there was a huge “S” across my chest.

But, in fairness to our scenario, the supper isn’t done. And it’s 3:45 in the afternoon. And the kids have choir today which will keep us out of the house till 6:00. And the laundry is screaming at me from the laundry room to be folded before the dreaded state of (gasp!) Permanent Wrinkles sets in. (It’s true. I’ve actually heard clean laundry call me from deep inside the dryer before. Just ask my dog, Bob. He’s heard it too.)

Here’s where things are different.

The kids come blasting through the front door, with the same unpunctuated and overly animated run-on sentences being broadcast in the Scene #1. But this time, I’ve made an intentional choice to stop. Not slow down, but pull over and stop. I turn off the sizzling, smoking onions. I close the door to the laundry room. I turn over my to-do list. I power down the computer screen.

Then I sit down. Right at their little 8 year old eye levels. And I take a journey into the worlds of my 3rd graders. “Who got in trouble on the bus? What part of your lunch did you like? Who did you play with today at recess? Tell me about your homework. I can’t wait to see your spelling test”. So the conversation goes. And it’s just that- a conversation. An interaction. A relationship. Sharing.

All of that would have been missed in the Fast Lane.

You see, when my kids walk through the door at 3:45 in the afternoon, they are offering me an invitation into their worlds and I have a choice. Choice #1 is to put the invitation aside in the stack of mail, and RSVP later. In the meanwhile I keep moving with Fred Flintstone spinning feet and a red cape flying off my shoulders. Or, Choice #2. I can pull over, get out of the drivers seat, and accept the invitation. And when I accept, the magic happens. I see the world through the eyes of an 8 year old. The antics on the playground at recess are suddenly bigger than getting supper done, or returning that phone call. The magic is priceless, immeasurable.

So I challenge you to this. I challenge you to recognize the invitations your kids offer you. Notice them when they are offered. And when they are offered, I challenge you to accept the invitation in the moment. Accept it right away, even if means the onions become little black charred bits on the stove. Accept it even if it means supper will come out of a can and you’ll face the world with wrinkled jeans tomorrow. And then I challenge you to “Pull over Ma’am”, and see what happens. This I know for sure, the magic is what this “Mom” business is really about.

Susie Sarkisian is a Life Coach living in Danbury, Ct. She can be reached at www.trustingyourjourney.com