My children are teaching me how to be present

I like to think I’m present for my children – most of the time. It’s become a life goal after realizing I was living the majority of my life in the past or future. But yesterday, in a few small but seemingly insignificant moments, my daughter taught me that I still had a long way to go.

She’s four, and along with her nine-year old sister they are my best and most beautiful creations. They also happen to be my most important teachers.

What my four year old taught me about being present

I don’t consider myself in the running for mum of the year by any standards. And despite attempting to be more intentional about the way I parent, I fail constantly. Not one day passes where I don’t do something to stuff up.

One of the things I’ve tried to be more intentional about recently is how I use my phone and social media around them. And for the most part I think I’ve improved. I try to limit my ‘work’ online to the hours they are at school so I can be more present for them when they are at home (try is the most important word of that last sentence. I’ve failed miserably the last few days).

But yesterday, simply by her presence, my daughter reminded me that even if I’m not online, I’m often not available for her. My ‘busy’ work just transfers to housework, cooking, and other chores.

Thursdays are sacred

She has Thursday at home with me, a last ‘hurrah’ before school at the end of this year. So I didn’t schedule any work in for yesterday. I knew it would be a day of interruptions and errands and I’ve learnt not to even try to write on these days. But determined to be productive in some way I dutifully made a to-do list.

Any parent readers will know that with kids in tow, schedules and to-do lists may as well get thrown out the window. After a beautiful walk around the estuary, I attempted to tackle the list. I’m pretty sure the main reason I achieved nothing yesterday was because ‘donkey’ and ‘lambie’ had to be buckled up in the backseat… anytime we went anywhere.

By 3pm I felt utterly defeated.

And then I began to notice.

I noticed how she watched the birds in the walnut tree. The way her eyes lit up when I said ‘yes’ to playing fairy’s with her. I watched her as she set out barefoot into the garden, determined to find every ladybug.

By 4pm I’d given up and settled on the deck with my new book. And it was okay.

It wasn’t an ‘ah-huh’ moment per se, rather an accumulation of tiny moments, seen through her eyes. Moments of joy and possibility.

My children are teaching me how to be present

And in those moments I realized how unpresent I had started the day. How unpresent I start many days.

So I made a decision. To-do lists are now banned from Thursday’s. I don’t care if things need to get done. They might get done, or they might not. I’m going to try not to care anymore.