SacMomsClub.com

Many of my friends who don’t have kids ask me if staying at home with my daughter ever bores me. One even asked me to do a few things for her because, as she said, “You’re a stay at home mom, so could you …” But I’ve never been so busy in my life. Between caring for and playing with Layla, cleaning, cooking, finishing my Masters, doing yoga, and writing, there is rarely a moment when I wonder, “well, what should I do with myself now?”

There are some days when the only time I sit is to eat or to write, otherwise I’m chasing my giggling toddler down the hallways, creating funny dances with her, making lunch or dinner, scrubbing the tub, running errands … I barely feel my feet touch the ground.

Just the other day, Layla was playing with her tea set in the living room while I washed dirty dishes. As soon as I dried my hands, I started to pick up some of the stray odds and ends that had wandered from their drawers and shelves. As I walked past Layla, I kneeled to give her a kiss and ruffle her hair, but she stopped me. “Sit,” she commanded, pointing her little finger at the floor. I don’t dare disobey an almost-two year old. I planted my fanny and sipped a tiny porcelain cup of “tea” because I knew she just needed a little company.

The next day, Layla repeated her monosyllabic request. I had just set a plate of lentils and rice in front of her and moved back to the kitchen to put away a few things while I waited for my food to heat up on the stove. Layla started to cry, twisting in her high chair, to look at me, and said “sit” through her tears, pointing at my chair next to her at the table. In that moment, I realized my constant motion keeps me from just sitting and being. When I finish one chore, I feel like I must move on to the next. When lunch or dinner is finished, I move to the dishes, often as I’m chewing the last bite of sandwich or carrot. I need to do as Layla says: I need to sit before the day ends, before she grows up, before I rise to clean the plates after a meal with my family.

For the past few days, I’ve been trying to find a little contentment and stillness. I’ve been meaning to add meditation to my yoga practice, but I always find an excuse. I’ve run out. I sit and listen to my breathing for fifteen minutes before Layla wakes up. When she has her interludes when she’s happy playing alone, I resist trying to squeeze in a little housework and quietly watch her … and I’m amazed by what the sound of a scouring pad or closing drawers has masked: yesterday Layla sat next to her bear on the sofa and read, pointing to the pictures, mimicking all the phrases I say when we read together. I’m sending the days off flying, and I don’t want to. The buzzing busyness I’ve created for myself can wait. I’m going to sit.