I tend to be a busy person. Always have liked to be on the move, and when I move, I move quickly. Well, that was B.K. (before kids). These past three years, I have struggled to adjust to a slower pace. Such is life with small, cute, but very slow children. While some may say your pace quickens, I feel the opposite. The freedom to just move, to get up and go no longer exists. What took five minutes before (coat, purse, keys, go), now takes half an hour. Coat, purse, keys, diaper bag with diapers, change of clothing, drinks, snacks, games, toys, books, children . . . diaper changes once more before leaving, then returning for the coffee you forgot. You get the idea.
Recently my family went on vacation to the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. On our first day we went on a hike with our two girls. The eldest is three, and the youngest is almost one. Since we had only one off-road stroller, we placed the baby in the stroller and had the three-year-old walk. We were a few minutes in, and I was wishing the eldest was in the stroller. All she wanted to do was play in the red sand and rocks along the pathway. I kept nudging her to move along telling her there was more to see.