Sometimes, the toddler refuses to say he’s finished with his cookie, but also refuses to take more than one infinitesimal nibble at a time.
Sometimes, the baby decides the whole afternoon nap thing (which happens to be your blogging time) isn’t his cup of tea anymore.
Sometimes, your first grader just needs a tea party–and by golly, you need one, too.
We make these rhythms and routines for ourselves, hoping to create a sense of order and achievement out of each day. And then we get annoyed when they get out of sync. And we get impatient for things to get “back to normal.”
But maybe that’s never what was normal to begin with.
Maybe, I’m most in-sync when lunch with my toddler takes longer–longer to pretend our fingers are little people dancing on the table, longer to chat about Batman, longer to exchange goofy grins.
Maybe I’m most in-sync when the baby ends up needing to be walked to sleep for a bit and then snuggles down for his nap on my chest in the baby carrier.
Maybe I’m most in in-sync when I’m pouring imaginary tea with my 6 year-old.
The bridge to the world of education here is very short indeed. It reminds me of a section that resonated most in Taryn Bondclegg’s latest post: her description of the internal struggle when it comes to letting go of our careful “plans:”
“Yet I have to admit, I had an internal struggle. The teachery teacher side of me kept saying “Hurry up! Move along! There is content to get to! You are behind your team! Report cards are coming!” While the inquiry-teacher side of me kept saying “Slow down. What’s the rush? Follow your students. Notice the learning that is happening everyday.” “
That word “notice” particularly stands out to me. It seems to me that “hurry” and “notice” are almost always nemeses.
When we hurry to start the day, do we notice who seems to have had a really rough morning?
When we hurry through our lesson, do we notice the thoughtful questions that deviate from the plan (though they might take us somewhere even better)?
When we hurry our assessments, do we notice the growth and small victories as well?
And yes, we do have obligations and content and testing to answer to. But if we are continually rushing to keep up, both as teachers and as parents, we are much more likely to miss the good stuff. The stuff that puts us most in-sync. The stuff that makes us connect most as human beings.
Slow down. Notice. And don’t worry when things don’t go to plan. That’s usually where the best learning and connecting happens anyway.
featured image: DeathToTheStockPhoto