Slow Down, Honey

I find myself saying the same thing to my oldest son almost every day.

"Slow down, honey."

He's always in a hurry. He rushes to get dressed. He rushes through cleaning his room. He rushes through coloring pages, art projects, and even cooking with me. If something takes longer than he wants it to, he gets frustrated. He'll tell me taekwondo takes too long. Cleaning takes too long. Waiting takes too long. Everything seems to be about getting to the finish line as quickly as possible.

The problem is, when you're always rushing, you miss things. You trip over your own feet. You make careless mistakes. You spill, you forget, you get hurt. I've watched him fall simply because he was trying to do everything too quickly, and every time I gently remind him, "Slow down, honey." I want him to realize that life isn't a race. It's okay to take your time.

Not too long ago, I noticed something that made me stop in my tracks.

I was doing the exact same thing.

Maybe not by running through the house, but in the way I lived my life. I was always trying to hurry to the next thing. Finish the dishes so I could start the laundry. Fold the laundry so I could make dinner. Make dinner so I could get the kids bathed. Get everyone to bed so I could finally relax, only to wake up and do it all over again. Even when I wasn't physically running, my mind was. It always felt like there was an invisible timer counting down the day, reminding me that I wasn't moving fast enough.

Since becoming a stay-at-home mom, one of the greatest gifts I've received has been the opportunity to slow down. Not because I suddenly have nothing to do—I laugh even writing that sentence. My days are still full. There are dishes in the sink, laundry that never seems to end, little hands asking for snacks, toys scattered across the living room, and endless questions that only children can think to ask. But somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling like every single thing had to happen right now.

That shift has changed me more than I expected.

When I stopped rushing through my days, I noticed I stopped rushing my children too. I became more patient. More understanding. Kinder. I wasn't constantly thinking about the next task while trying to finish the current one. I could actually enjoy making dinner instead of treating it like another chore to race through. Ironically, my meals even started turning out better because I wasn't distracted or trying to hurry every step.

It made me think about the world we live in. Everything around us encourages speed. We can order something online in the morning and have it sitting on our doorstep that afternoon. We expect instant replies, instant entertainment, instant results. Somewhere along the way we've started believing that faster is better, and if we're not constantly moving, we're somehow falling behind.

But the most meaningful parts of life have never been rushed.

Children don't rush wonder. Flowers don't rush blooming. Relationships aren't built overnight. Healing doesn't happen on a deadline. Neither does growth.

I know not everyone has the privilege of slowing their schedule the way I have. Life looks different for every family, and many people are balancing work, school, children, responsibilities, and everything in between. But I don't think slowing down always begins with changing our schedule. Sometimes it begins by changing our pace.

Maybe it looks like sitting at the table for five extra minutes after dinner instead of immediately jumping up to clean. Maybe it's reading one more bedtime story even though the dishes can wait until tomorrow. Maybe it's taking your time while making your morning coffee instead of drinking it while racing out the door. Small moments of slowness have a way of changing the entire rhythm of our day.

It's funny. All this time I thought I was teaching my son.

"Slow down, honey."

But maybe those words were never just for him.

Maybe I needed to hear them too.

And perhaps that's one of the beautiful things about motherhood. Sometimes the lessons we think we're teaching our children quietly become the lessons that transform us.

So if you've been feeling overwhelmed, constantly on edge, always racing toward the next thing, let this be your gentle reminder today.

Slow down, honey.

The laundry will still be there tomorrow.

The dishes can wait a little longer.

Your children won't remember how quickly you got everything done.

But they will remember how you made them feel while you were doing it.