Shhteppa Time

Wednesday.

Whatever.

No, not whatever. If there ever was a day that was to be ridiculously ordinary, today would have been that day. But since I am me, nothing ever is completely ordinary. It looks that way from the outside. Get ready, get kids ready, get preschooler ready for school and out the door, hang out with toddler at home and play whatever seems to be of interest to her at the moment (trying always to turn it into some sort of lesson). We placed foam stickers on a sheet of paper and then named all the objects: kkkat, doooog, bo-ee (boy), shtar (star), hart (heart), girl, ball, candee (candle) and so on and so forth. We stacked little circle cut outs of playdoh onto a miniature cup to make a pretend ice cream cone that she actually tried to eat – seriously who among you has a child who will not eat the playdoh!? We read her favorite counting book (five times) and then we got all excited when it was time to grab her little Hello Kitty shoes from her room upstairs and go pick up Brother from school.

Ordinary. Right.

Since my knee surgery, I haven’t been able to carry her up the stairs. It makes me sad. It makes her very sad. Sad enough to have a fit every time we need ascend or descend (which comes to a minimum of four times a day). Except today. Just as I see her little face turn to me and scrunch up all frustrated, I said “Mommy can’t carry you yet, Mommy has an owie on her knee. We just have to take it one step at a time.” That seemed to work and she proceeded up the stairs just ahead of me turning back every other step to look at me and say “shhteppa time, shhteppa time, shhteppa time.” I guess it was one of those days when the smallest little something hits you right in the gut and ends up meaning a whole lotta something.

As we took one “shhteppa time” to the top of the stairs, I couldn’t help but think how much wisdom my little twenty month old was speaking to me. All my life I have gone up and down flight after flight of stairs without thinking much about it. American stairs, Japanese stairs, Swiss stairs, French and Italian stairs, Chinese stairs, Thai stairs, Hungarian stairs, StairMaster stairs – what? Those count! Climbing stairs hasn’t changed in the past EVER, it has always been one step at a time.

But the past three weeks it has been one.step.at.a.time.

There is nothing fast about what I am doing. There aren’t any shortcuts.

It.is.one.step.at.a.time.

For someone who wants to just jump every other stair and get to the good part, these past three weeks have been slow going. Today, on my ordinary Wednesday, I was reminded – yet again – to take everything one “shhteppa time.” I need to remember this. Every.Single.Day because I am blessed to get a season where I can slow down, enjoy the view and take every.step.in.