I find myself telling Signal to "hurry" in the mornings. Like most children, his capacity to accomplish the mundane (have a pee, brush his teeth, put on his shoes) in what most adults (by which, of course, I mean myself) consider a timely fashion is seemingly curtailed. So, I lean against the doorframe, sigh dramatically, and tell him to hurry.
But pausing to reflect, I don't think that is what I mean. I think that what I mean to do is encourage him to perform his mundane tasks quickly - to just get them done, get past the mundane, do and be over it.
And then, pausing to reflect some more, I realize that really, Signal doesn't need to do either - neither hurry nor do the mundane more quickly. He gets breakfast every day. He gets his bladder emptied, his teeth brushed, his shoes and jacket on. We make it to the bus every day, with time to spare. Time he uses to do his morning exercise - walking a circle around me on the sidewalk.
There is only one thing that needs to be said. And I need to say it to myself. I need to hear myself say, "Relax. Slow down." The things will get done. I don't need to rush through them.