A pause before the parent-teacher conference

Before the in-depth discussion of gross motor skills, code-switching, class leadership and imbuing a sense of responsibility for caring for others, letter shapes and sounds, independent play, and the sad goodbye to regular weekday naps, I paused at one of my favorite cafes.

I had a list of things to do on my brand new bad ass iPhone (which I am sure sounds more like "EeeeeeeeeePhone!" when I squeal about it), but there wasn't time to get too deeply involved in calls and follow-up messages and digging back through my inbox for those nagging, unanswered emails. I'd already used up most of my time to be productive running back home for a forgotten backpack and lunchbox. And because I stopped there to do a few little distracting tasks, I raced back to the school once again without the backpack and lunchbox. At that point, with just shy of a half-hour left, there wasn't ample time to make one more trip or worry about much else than a few articles in a paper from yesterday left behind and a random text from a friend.

I took that time to sip a very strong latte, have a few bites of one of my very favorite sandwiches -- brie, prosciutto and fig jam -- and let my sore legs and buzzing mind rest.

Not too much time passed before I headed off to Lil E's parent-teacher conference, where his teacher told me all is happy and well and on target for him in the classroom. I was at ease to hear what I knew but still was reassuring to hear and, for the first time, to enjoy that time alone, without the tension of having The Ex sitting beside me.

We covered a lot in twenty minutes, and after that, there was still one final trip home and back to be sure my boy had a sandwich of his own to eat for lunch. It was a busy morning, but the deep breath of that time for coffee and a bit of breakfast lingered.

I wonder what my days would be like if I pushed pause, if only for fifteen minutes, on more of my mornings.