Lessons From a Hummingbird

I'm standing in the kitchen washing chicken off of my hands.

I'm calculating in my head exactly how many minute the whole chicken needs to cook if it weighs 4.89 lbs and cooks at 20 minutes a pound. I'm also trying to figure out what time I'll need to start the potatoes to have them done at exactly the same time as the chicken. The rolls and the green beans need to be started 1o minutes before all of that has to be done. Table setting should begin 5 minutes before the meal is done if I do it myself, or 20 minutes before the meal is done if I delegate it to one of the kids or my husband.

I like to call these moments, mommy word problems.

They make my head hurt.

I manage to wash the last of the chicken residue from my hands and glance up to see a hummingbird, just outside my kitchen window, having dinner in my neighbor's flowers.

It's been a long time since I've seen a hummingbird. They seem to move just as quickly as I do, but we're never in the same place a the same time. So I watch the tiny creature gathering nectar and think about how much effort it puts forth to get a meal.

Hummingbirds have to beat their wings 70 times a second to hover and drink their dinner.

The other thing about hummingbirds is that they only spend about 15 percent of their day flying around eating. They spend the other 85 percent perching and digesting what they worked so hard to get.

Hummingbirds give all their effort to the most important part of their day, and spend the rest of the time enjoying the fruits of their labors.

They are the ultimate prioritizers, and this little one was sent to teach me a lesson.

I will never be done with my to-do list.

I hate to break it to me...but it's true.

And although I'll never be done with the things on my list, there are things that I will be done with one day, precious things that I can't imagine being without.

The perpetual questions of a seven-year-old little boy. Brushing and braiding my daughter's soft brown hair. Reading Good Night Moon for the thousandth time in a row to a captive audience. "Tuck me in tighter" whispered to me late at night. Notes that read, "I love Mac and Cheese and Mommy." Elmo. Dora. Justice League. Dolls. One last kiss before bedtime.

And although, he didn't stay long enough for me to get him in the picture, I got the gist of the lesson, taught by my friend the hummingbird.

And I promise to spend some time enjoying the nectar in my life.