The Day We Slowed Down

We’d just finished reading a delightful book, The Sloth Who Came to Stay, written by Margaret Wild and illustrated by Vivienne To. The story is about a sloth who moves in with a fast-paced family and quite literally slows everything down. As I reflected on this sweet tale, I thought about one daily pocket of time that always feels rushed: school pick-up.

The Sloth Who Came to Stay written by Margaret Wild and Illustrated by Vivienne To

I started to wonder what that experience must feel like from my preschooler’s point of view. Each day looks different and comes with a list of considerations:
Do we need the stroller?
Will little legs get tired (and the whinging begin)?
Do we have a snack for the hungry school kid?
What if it rains, should we just take the car?

But on this particular sunny afternoon, with time on our side and nothing urgent pulling at us, we did something different. We left just 15 minutes earlier than usual. And those 15 minutes turned into a little adventure.

Picking ‘poison berries’ for our mud kitchen play

We found “poison berries” to add to a witch’s potion, tucking them carefully into our pockets for later use.
We played two-headed shadows, giggling as our long shapes merged on the footpath.
We picked up interesting leaves, bits of bark, and smooth little rocks.
We had deep chats about how far we’d walked, and how far we still had to go.
We even lay down for a moment, just a little rest, using a freshly fallen leaf as a pillow on the grass.

Magical leaf pillows

And then came the highlight: a drink from the dog park bubbler. (Don’t worry, we had a full conversation about how we only drink from the top tap, not the doggie bowl.)

That short walk, usually done with a stroller and a quiet internal countdown to pick-up time, became something entirely different.
By simply giving ourselves permission to slow down, I found myself stepping into my child’s world—an imaginary place where every leaf had a purpose and every stop was part of the quest.

The most surprising part? My little one didn’t tire.
The games, the wonder, the pretend naps on the lawn — these tiny moments of play were like pockets of energy. And just like that, we made it to school without a single “carry me.”

The adventure continues on the way back home with my little and big one.

So here’s the reminder I needed (and maybe you do too):
Adding a little extra time doesn’t slow us down. It creates space.
Space to connect. To play. To notice things we’d otherwise rush past.
Space to join in their world, rather than just walk beside it.

Next time you’ve got a routine errand or school pick-up, try it.
Leave early. Slow it right down.
And don’t be surprised if a magical leaf pillow appears along the way.