Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Teacher Teagan

For the last two mornings, after the girls finish breakfast and have their hands and faces cleaned, I've been putting random objects on the girls' high chair trays. It gives them a few minutes for quiet, stationary play. It gives me a few minutes to get the kitchen cleaned up.

Quinn doesn't last long and usually wants out of her high chair within five minutes. Teagan, on the other hand, happily sits there examining each object, stacking them or banging them together to make music. She is 100% in the moment.

This morning, while walking in the park, Teagan stopped to watch the workers at a construction site. She stood there for a while, taking it in. Quinn watched for a minute and then ran off.

When a plate of food is put in front of Teagan, she looks at it carefully. She touches it and often smells it. She then puts it in her mouth.

I am Quinn. We have the same personality. We are both intense. We move quickly - running, rarely walking. While intensity and speed aren't bad things, they can sometimes cause us to miss something beautiful right in front of our noses.

While watching a completely engrossed Teagan finger paint this morning, she reminded me without even saying a word, to live in the moment. 

As a mother of twins and two fur children, my days are busy and require planning. With meals, dog walking, clean up, activities, naps, playdates, my children and wife's happiness, laundry, grocery shopping, errands and my own sanity to think about, I always end up thinking one step ahead. I wake up in the morning and carefully put the puzzle pieces of my day together in the most efficient way possible.

Yes, I've become quick and efficient at getting two toddlers and two dogs out the door, but I worry that my efficiency has come at the detriment of sometimes just letting myself be. There is ALWAYS going to be something that needs to be done. Jenn will often remind me that it doesn't matter if [insert non-urgent household task] gets done right now -- she's right. I love her for that.

I absolutely adore my girls. They have both taught me so many lessons over the last 20 months. Today, a big thank you goes to my oldest, Teagan. Thank you for reminding me to sloooooooooow down and sometimes let myself live in the moment.


  1. I heard Carl Honore speaking and taking calls about his book In Praise of Slowness on cbc radio the other day and it totally brought this message home. He started getting the idea for the book when his son called him out on shortening his bed time stories, eg. "Hey daddy - there are more than 3 dwarves in Snow White!". Our kids are the best teachers. Yay for T!

    Now on my reading list:

    - Kate