Why Our Children Should Not Be Rushed

In the past few weeks, I have been really focussing on slowing down with the kids. Keeping eye contact with Benedict, especially while he is nursing. Holding Jerome for as long as he needs - something he has been needing more and more from me.

This focus has made me realize how often I rush my children, and the negative message I may be sending them.

A while back I read an article about how we need to not be the first one to let go when our children come to us, but I cannot, for the life of me, find it.

As parents, we all know that children live life at a different pace than we do.

I mean, seriously, how long does it take to eat a bowl of cereal?

And they seem to need us at the most inopportune times, like when the timer is going off for the oven or the laundry is needing to be changed over.

If We Aren't Slowing Down for Our Children, What are we Teaching Them?

It is surprisingly difficult to be still when my children need me to be still. I find myself, so often, wanting to set them down, go about the hundreds of things I feel are so pressing.

I did this so unconsciously, sorry as I am to admit it, though I knew that taking care of my children's needs was so much more important than most other things.

Our children need us to slow down, to be present to them when they want to talk to, look at, or be cherished by us. They need us to show them their needs are worthy of our time and attention, that they are seen and valued. 

If we cannot take the time to slow down and assure them of this, we are teaching them the opposite.

It Really Only Takes a Moment

Truthfully, the practice of slowing down has resulted in only a moment or two of extra holding, hugging, looking - precious moments indeed. I know how rewarding it is for our relationships, and for my children, when I let go and give them these extra moments of me.

This morning, it meant just sitting down on the floor in my room and holding Jerome for ten minutes after his bath, instead of rushing him to dress and get on with breakfast. It meant snuggling Benedict on the couch and realizing how long he wants to just sit with me after a nap.

Every day, it means staring into the deep brown eyes of my baby while he nurses, the inquisitive, peaceful gaze of a perfectly content little person.

This is definitely a habit I need to continue developing, but I am already seeing the fruit of it, and am so grateful for the wisdom and guidance of Maria Montessori in awakening me to this need.

Have a great week, thank you so much for reading. To read some more of my posts on concentration, go here for simple ways we encourage concentration and here to read about the value of concentration.

God bless,
Olivia Fischer