End of January
Jan. 31st, 2023 05:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spryngI've managed to bike both kids to school/daycare in the morning every day for five days now. I keep wondering, why did I stop doing this and then I remember Baby Doore was up for 3-4 hours every night for a while there. It's only now that he's sleeping again that I feel all right about waking him up to take him.
He's currently sitting on the floor of my office near me, playing contently with toys. This may last another 10min, it may not, but it's... nice. I don't remember getting these moments when Cabin Girl was this age -- she wasn't very good about playing on her own for a very long time.
(Of course right after typing that sentence, he demanded to "up" and sat in my lap for a while eating sausage pieces instead)
Baby Doore will be 2 in less than 2 weeks. I suppose I'll need a different nickname for him, then. Cabin Boy seems a little too obvious, but, I don't want to bump him ahead on the hierarchy. CG gets mail addressed to her as CG, so she's aware of the nickname, even if she doesn't really know what it means.
Anyway, back to the biking. I love it? I love it. It's almost an hour of commuting, but that's time spent watching the sun rise with my kids, talking to CG about her upcoming day, hearing an excited "woof woof!" from Baby Doore every time he spots a doggy, saying hi to the 3-5 other people who are out walking/running at the same time every morning, getting exercise, and generally just not being stressed in traffic.
It's an hour, but it's SO MUCH stuffed into that hour. It reminds me of when we used to take the bus to work in AZ and WA, and how much reading or thinking I'd get done in that time. It took more time than if I drove my own personal car, but it was so much better time spent.
And that's been a big lesson of the last year or years, especially since COVID -- what's the point of saving time when you're losing out on richness? Why not take it a bit slower, especially if you can let yourself exist in those moments instead of trying to hurry through them. Our lives are made up of the moments between, all strung together, and sometimes the best of them are a chilly bike ride, listening to your child describe the dream she had last night, watching syrupy sunrise light pour through the spanish moss, cruising past all the cars lined up for child drop-off...
He's currently sitting on the floor of my office near me, playing contently with toys. This may last another 10min, it may not, but it's... nice. I don't remember getting these moments when Cabin Girl was this age -- she wasn't very good about playing on her own for a very long time.
(Of course right after typing that sentence, he demanded to "up" and sat in my lap for a while eating sausage pieces instead)
Baby Doore will be 2 in less than 2 weeks. I suppose I'll need a different nickname for him, then. Cabin Boy seems a little too obvious, but, I don't want to bump him ahead on the hierarchy. CG gets mail addressed to her as CG, so she's aware of the nickname, even if she doesn't really know what it means.
Anyway, back to the biking. I love it? I love it. It's almost an hour of commuting, but that's time spent watching the sun rise with my kids, talking to CG about her upcoming day, hearing an excited "woof woof!" from Baby Doore every time he spots a doggy, saying hi to the 3-5 other people who are out walking/running at the same time every morning, getting exercise, and generally just not being stressed in traffic.
It's an hour, but it's SO MUCH stuffed into that hour. It reminds me of when we used to take the bus to work in AZ and WA, and how much reading or thinking I'd get done in that time. It took more time than if I drove my own personal car, but it was so much better time spent.
And that's been a big lesson of the last year or years, especially since COVID -- what's the point of saving time when you're losing out on richness? Why not take it a bit slower, especially if you can let yourself exist in those moments instead of trying to hurry through them. Our lives are made up of the moments between, all strung together, and sometimes the best of them are a chilly bike ride, listening to your child describe the dream she had last night, watching syrupy sunrise light pour through the spanish moss, cruising past all the cars lined up for child drop-off...
