Soapbox

When at a loss for the meaning of mindfulness, watch a child eating pancakes. Trust me on this. You've not seen absolute focus, to the exclusion of all other things, until witnessing this phenomenon.

This past weekend was one of those times when gazing to the sky with a look of baffled annoyance, uttering "You're kidding, right" seemed perfectly appropriate. To make a long story short, I wanted to wash some dishes, however I got a version of Niagara Falls gushing through the kitchen floor to the basement below. (The death of a dishwasher is a sad thing to behold). Anyway, plans for a weekend outing, leisurely grocery shopping, and even a soak in the tub were immediately shelved. I became a whirling logistical dervish (stay with me here, the pancakes come into play soon) as Friday melded into Saturday, which suddenly became Sunday.

I spent a great deal of time obsessing how wonderful it is to flush a toilet, a thing of which one grows keenly aware after shutting off the water to one's house. I had spent little energy enjoying the company of my children, annoying me to no end because I feel like I barely see them as it is, let alone the weekend.

So, Sunday morning I found myself staring at my youngest methodically devouring a plate of blueberry buttermilk pancakes, envious of his bliss. Each circle had been carefully cut into bite-sized portions which he skated across the syrup-coated plate on its way to his mouth. One hand navigated the utensil, the other held a paper towel at the ready in the event of a syrup mishap, and his eyes took in nothing beyond his plate. From the joyfull expression on his face, it was impossible to distinguish whether he was a toddler eating them for the first time, let alone an almost-ten year old. This was a kid reveling in gooey syrup, and warm, squishy blueberries contained within a cake of sorts. Who doesn't like cake, anyway? Further raising the cuteness quotient was the willy-nilly rise and fall of intense bed hair, and just-tumbled-out-of-bed warm little boy smell. I'm worrying about plumbers and showers and getting another kid to the orthodontist while a blissed-out elf sits at my table experiencing the Divine in the form of maple syrup and pancakes. Had the sky opened with a voice booming "Just checking your priorities, Catie", I would not have been surprised.

The plumber came, the leak stopped, and I remembered to make and enjoy time to relax, rather than bemoan its absence. Who says pancakes aren't a healthy breakfast?

blessings,

Catie

Copyright 2005 WomanLinks.com

About the Author : Catie Hayes is founder/editor of WomanLinks.com; a community of support, spirituality, growth and empowerment for women. She is a freelance writer, the single mom of two homeschooling kids, an avid fan of laughter, spontaneous dancing, cats and chocolate (not necessarily in that order).