Remembering to Ride My Tricycle

Elle just turned 18-months and her little personality has taken off. She’s trying to form complete sentences and even told me her first story the other day. It’s so amazing to watch her follow in Bea’s footsteps, trying so hard to be just like her big sister.

Most of the time, Bea takes the time to help and guide Elle. In the bathtub, I overhear Bea slowly talking to Elle, Elle! This is an elephant. Can you say el-e-phant? Elle! This is a towel. Can you say tow-el? Elle! Do you believe in Jesus? Say, I believe in Jesus! Elle!

Other times, Bea is frustrated when her little sister draws on an art project or knocks down a lego creation. And for as much as Elle emulates her big sister, she wants to do things on her own. She wants to be just like Bea but without the time and effort and years it took for Bea to learn her 4-year-old achievements.

When we ride bikes, Elle loves sitting on Bea’s two-wheeler, wrapping her feet around the seat, and having me run through the cul-de-sac. She makes vrrrooooommm!! noises and loves going fast. Bea lets her do this for a time, but soon wants her own bike to speed around. Elle is not content with her little balance trike – she wants to skip ahead to what the big kids are riding.

My one word for this year is Capacity. I’ve alluded to different decisions we’ve already made that seem to have fulfilled this word. I want to say, Look! I’m doing it! Just two months into the year and I’ve succeeded!

But this past week has been a bit chaotic and not at all productive. Part of that is because we took a much-needed, long-overdue trip to visit family. It was good cousin-filled chaos and the productivity of seeing aging grandmothers. But I was easily lost in my to-do list. I wanted to get into a rhythm, to fill my now free moments with other really good things.

I was recently reminded of the need for rest. That without taking time to pause, I won’t be refreshed and ready for whatever the next adventure may be. I had fallen into a habit of checking off the boxes, completing my word instead of viewing it as a slow, unfolding process.

Who knows where capacity will take me this year? Perhaps it will push me beyond my comforts. Perhaps it will push me to do less, to open up my capacity for rest. My guess is that I’ve only begun to scrape the surface of what this year holds for me and our family.

Rather than trying to skip ahead and ignore the necessary steps along the way, I’m learning to stop and recognize these steps as developmental. I need to learn to ride that little balance trike before I can tackle a two-wheeler.

How do you stop to remember to take baby steps? Are you methodical by nature or do you like to skip ahead?