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Slowing Down

July felt very long, and very slow. Not necessarily in a bad way, just like time didn't really matter or exist. We stayed home and inside a lot, ate a lot of ice pops, and splashed in a kiddie pool on the back porch as much as reasonably possible (when the humidity wasn't pushing the heat index well into the triple digits). A lot of days I looked back at the end and wondered what I had even done that day, especially to justify feeling as drained as I did.

But I kept everyone fed and in clean clothes. We listened to several audio books (the kids went through the entire Bunnicula series for the first time). There were crafts and knitting and reading and journaling. We all worked on our emotional development - Middle knocked a sibling over by accident and voluntarily went back to check on them, and the little one threw his stuffed animals out of his crib at being told it was time to lay down, but when I came back from tucking in another sibling said he was feeling kinder and asked for his favorite stuffie back and for his two songs. We all practiced how everyone forgets sometimes and everyone makes mistakes, but when we realize it's important to repair/clean up. I might not have done anything that could be monetized, but that doesn't mean it was worthless.

I'm learning to accept a slower pace. From the slowness of coaxing a four year old out of the house when he insists on putting his own shoes on to the slowness my own body often demands of me after a lifetime of ignoring her more gentle cues for rest, there's really nothing that requires urgency (usually the things that I think do actually just needed better/more advance planning). Small continual shifts toward peace, and nothing else, because peace is all that matters.

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