Pause

The most important button on the DVD player to Tucker is, without a doubt, Pause.  He cannot allow a single moment of the program to be missed when Nature calls, no matter if She is calling audience members other than himself.   No matter how I reassure him that I don't mind, he shouts anxiously, "Mommy! You gotta hit pause!" And so I do, for him, so I won't miss a beat.

I guess it's an occupational hazard of growing up, but as a parent, I am especially guilty of living in all times but the present.  I toggle constantly between Fast Forward and Reverse.  (Will they ever get their shoes on in the morning?  FF. Where did my babies' chubby rubber-band wrists go? RW. Will we ever have our evenings back?  FF.)  If it is anything, this blog began as an attempt to notice the moments as they pass, to pause them by slowing down enough to describe them.

Today I read the following article, which explores these ideas far better than I:

Tennis with Plato