Pajama Day
This one goes out to all you super busy parents out there. The moms and dads running in all directions, trying to get it all done, falling into bed at night, and then starting all over again the next day. For you...and all of those needing a pause…I share a story.
“Why are you so happy today,” my then (this was a few years ago) 10- year old asked as I drove her to school.
“What do you mean?” I replied while glancing in the rearview mirror to watch as she attempted to shove her oversized pajamas into her already bursting at the seams backpack.
Why pajamas in the backpack you may ask? Because it was kindness day at school and they were celebrating by wearing pajamas.
Obviously.
Let’s just take a moment here…how on earth does wearing pajamas represent kindness? The only thing I’ve got on this is that we do all feel kinder in our pjs than in pants with zips and buttons (and muffin tops).
But I digress.
Pajamas into bag. Seat belt on.
“I’m the same as usual, it’s just you have been much nicer this morning,” I responded. This was my cunning maneuver to get ahead of the fact that she was clearly calling out my lack of “nice” on other mornings.
“No, you are just different today,” she continued. “I don’t know why, but you are.”
I let the conversation drop, battled through the drop off line, saluted the crossing guard, and drove my pajama-clad self home (pjs…because it’s kindness day or I was too lazy to put on clothes…I’ll let you decide). All the while I wondered, was I really nicer today?
Earlier in the week, I had been at school with my daughter, helping wrap presents for the giving program. The fire alarm had sounded and the children marched like little robots to the classroom’s giant, double doors that lead to the playground. I’ll tell you…these kids know the drill. We did not. The unprepared parents practically lost all control of ourselves at the shock of the sirens and ran around in circles wondering what our roll in this surprising turn of events should be. The amused 5th- grade teacher casually pointed to the door.
Ah yes – fire drill – leave the building.
I scurried to the door and held it open for the parents behind me. DONK! The other side of the double door blindsided me, literally. I was whacked in the forehead by the world’s heaviest fire-safe door. Instant goose egg, an impressive trickle of blood, and concerned friends all ensued. Anyway, long story short, one mild concussion later, and I was advised that I should do a lot of nothing. And so, that morning, I had been thinking about a day ahead of me where I wasn’t going to accomplish anything! Nothing!
That morning I had woken up knowing that I would be slow, deliberately not racing through my list of to-dos. I didn’t tell my 10-year old this, but somehow my day’s outlook and perspective translated into a happy carpooling mom. This is one of the amazing things about our children, they sense everything. How much more of an invitation did I need to bring a calmer approach to the whole thing than my child noticing I was nicer simply because I wasn’t in a hurry?
We live in a time where achieving is cherished; being a productive person is honored. The balancing act of keeping all the balls in the air is exhausting, and what I learned on that day is that it often accomplishes the opposite of what we are trying to do. If we want to raise kind, joy-filled children, we need to be still enough to let some peace into our lives. This doesn’t mean we quit our jobs, stop making dinner, or don’t do the laundry. But I think it does mean that when we can give ourselves a pass or and take a break, we should DO IT.
Be still for a moment or two and you do feel different. The world will keep marching forward, but our children might get a glimpse into what it looks like to take a break and fill back up. Rest matters and our children notice when we take the time to care for ourselves in this way. And so, my challenge for us all is to look for ways to slow down and step out of the frantic pace.
Who knows, then maybe, if we are lucky, we’ll all be just a little bit nicer. ;-)