play. throw rocks. rest.

On Monday Tim and I made an offer on a house. I was a little freaked out, but we had thought about it six ways to Sunday and were sure that this was what we wanted. So sure, in fact, that getting the house had become our new goal; shifting the focus from me trying to get a job to finding a place where our family would continue to grow.
So the offer letter was prepared, and delivered, and not more than two hours later we learned that someone had made a verbal offer directly to the sellers that morning and, although it’s not binding, the sellers felt that they need to honor the offer that was made. Which meant the house – the house we had been dreaming of – was not going to be ours.

Needless to say, Tim and I were disappointed. Hugely.

As he was putting Eleanor to bed, Tim told her that he was feeling sad.

“Why,” she asked.

“Because we didn’t get the house that we wanted,” he replied.

“But we could get another one,” she told him (And she’s right. I mean, it’s just a house. There are others.) “You should be happy,” she continued.

“How can I be happy?” Tim asked her.

{she sat quietly, patiently, thinking for a moment}

“Play. Throw rocks. Rest.” she said, gently touching his arm.

Play. Throw rocks. Rest. It was a brilliantly wise answer: simple and poignant. Lighten up. Find a way to release your anger and frustration. Take a nap.

I think we could all use a little more 3 year-old wisdom in our lives, and Eleanor’s has become my new mantra.

Play. Throw rocks. Rest.

Play. Throw rocks. Rest.

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