Slowing to the Pace of a 4 Year Old

We live half a mile from our grocery store, a nice shiny new-ish Publix. Pull out the driveway, turn left, make a right onto the main road and I barely have time to get going to speed limit before I have to slow down to pull into the parking lot. Because it’s so easy, I go often. Too often. To get one, two or five things. I’m lazy. And inefficient.

I decided that to motivate myself to be more efficient, if I needed five things or less, I was going to walk. This would make me think twice about what I really *need* at the grocery store, will motivate me to pay more attention to the contents of my cupboards and refrigerator and be more thorough when I do shop. And in the event I really do need 3 things, I’d get some fresh air and exercise.

Yesterday, the little guy and I headed out the door and down the sidewalk for our first adventure walking to the grocery store. He grabbed my hand, the way he always still does when we walk together. Tiny fingers weaving, clutching, reminding me he’s still little. His feet shuffled in his little boy way. He was a step behind all the way.

As we walked, he counted sidewalk squares, counted blocks we passed, complained he was hot, and we giggled at the critters on our path. We debated whether they were crickets or grasshoppers. He thinks they were grasshoppers because crickets only come out at night. He (wisely) shared that “grasshoppers are called grasshoppers because they hop over grass!” then told me jokes, “Why did the grasshopper cross the sidewalk? To get to the grass!” Smart and funny.

We looked at the clouds. He found a giraffe. I noticed a fence that I’ve never seen before on the many times I’ve run past it. We talked about ditches, dirt, counted steps until we got to the light to cross the big road. Young and frantic about traffic still, he clutched my hand tighter, his shuffling feet began to run, and he kept up with me as we crossed. Then back to his pace, his slow pace full of wonder and joy about the little things in the world around him.

As we strolled up to the store entrance, he marveled that “We don’t even have to park! We can just walk right in” while looking up at me with a sense of triumph, like we knew something all those other people didn’t. He felt special.

The walk back went faster. We took the other side of the road that was shadier. We counted together. I had to stoop to hear his little boy voice when he tried to tell me about the things he was seeing, many for the first time even though we drive past every single day. We both spent that time seeing the world in a different way just by choosing to take the same route on foot. Slower. Quieter.

Magical, really.

Emily at Chatting at the Sky has started up Tuesdays Unwrapped, a place to breathe in the big, beautiful magical moments of the day that happen between the loads of laundry and dishes. The moments that make the most mundane of days worth it. Head over there and join in or just read and feel inspired to notice.