Dit! And life lessons

Greta's most recent fun thing to do is to request (command?) that I sit ("dit") with her in very specific places and at specific times. For instance, for every meal she is insistent that I sit beside her the instant she is placed at the table with her plate of food in front of her. If I still need to gather silverware or get drinks together, she points to my place at the table and says, "Dit, Mama, Dit, Mama, Dit, Mama . . ." over and over until I actually sit down next to her.

Also, each time we walk out the front door, Greta insists that we sit on the front steps. And she almost never is active in this spot. She just wants to sit, be still, and consider her world, perhaps. We sit on these steps almost every morning around 8:00 and usually each afternoon at 5:30. Again before and after our evening walk and sometimes in between. Each time, Greta points out the flowers or our neighbors' houses (Anna? Anna?), the spiders, the ants, and the birds. It's a glorious time of quiet that I think must be normal and rare at once in a two year old child.

Sometimes, though, if she doesn't require a sit on the front steps, that only means that she wants me to sit on the front sidewalk while she sits in the monkey grass nearby. She picks the little purple flowers out of it and wrinkles her nose.

In all of these places and times, I think about the things that Greta considers. The things which make her happy. And I feel honored to be included in her reverie. Other times, I become frustrated - - we need to get to school, to work, back in the house, off to the park, or whatever. Thankfully, I am bright enough to get out of that mentality quickly and to begin to try to attach myself to life the way that Greta does - - at least for our sitting moments together. To me, this is the stuff of which prayer and meditation are made. Quiet moments of reflection. The purple flowers are lovely. The ants are small. The ground is cool or wet. Greta has this concept nailed down, and I am learning from my child how to be still and enjoy these tremendous subtleties. I realize that Greta's inclusion of her mother in such moments of introspection might just slow down or cease as she ages. One day she'll find the space to consider alone in her bedroom with the door closed or by sharing her thoughts with a journal rather than with her mother. This makes me profoundly sad and happy at once.

For now, I will sit and be still with my daughter every chance she gives me to do so. It is the best part of each and every day.