Skip to main content

missing out

Yesterday I made a list of all the things I wanted to do this weekend.
And none of them were good productive things
Like clean the house, rest, or grade papers.
These were all places I wanted to go, things I had committed to, and people I wanted to see.

And it was a good list.
Friday there was play dates, soccer practice and I had a date with my hubs. A movie. just us. And I can’t remember the last time we saw a movie together.
Today there are soccer games, authors speaking, lunch, friends in town, and other friends I just haven’t spent enough time with lately. And tomorrow is church, more authors (Donald Miller even), bands I want to hear, writers group and of course I hope to squeeze in all that stuff I am actually supposed to do…..along with good quality time with my family.

And well. As much as I try. I can’t do it all.
Or even half of it.
And I do very little of it actually well.
I get sick.
My house is a mess.
And my husband has to pull more than his share of the weight.
And suddenly my kids look bigger and know more things than they did yesterday.
And I missed it.

And so yesterday, I looked at my list and tried to scratch a few things off.
Things that I could be ok missing.
Things that I could say no to.
And it was a struggle.
And didn’t scratch off nearly as much as I wanted to.
Hardly anything at all.

But I woke up early on accident and made even more plans. I thought I’d go up to school and get a few things done before my first event of the morning.
Laying in bed before 7 am, I thought maybe I could even take a kid with me and meet a friend for coffee on the way.
I was thrilled at the thought of being productive, a good friend and a good mom all at the same time. But the truth is none of those things are done well while I am doing something else.

And this isn’t saying much because it is only 10 am.
I never made it to school. Or met anyone for coffee.
But so far I am still in my pjs. Shaun is at the gym.
And I have made breakfast (if captain crunch counts), read stories, survived a 2 year old temper tantrum, snuggled and danced in the living room and watched cartoons.
Coffee is on it’s way. And the first thing I plan to get dressed for today is my kid's soccer game.

These things weren’t on the list.
But maybe they should have been.

(and thanks Tina, for the picture and I love the new website!)
Labels:

Comments

Kate said…
PJ days are the best.
November 6, 2010 at 10:01 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

break a leg

I do the math on my hand. This is my 5th end of the year dance recital and you think by now I’d know to remember to pack hair spray and snacks. Someone hands my daughter a bag of chips and I want to hug her. I want to tell her that I am not a total failure, that we did not lose the wristbands, we wore the right color tights and that I do at least have a few bobby pins in my pocket. I can not handle the crazy that is backstage. It is a whirlwind of squealing girls in sequins, lycra and tulle. Moms wielding curling hours and more eye makeup than the entire MAC counter, I start to sweat in my ponytail. I quickly look away as an entire row of dancers peel off EVERYTHING for a quick costume change. I was not made for this. I unashamedly let an eight-year-old I have never met teach me how to get my daughter’s hair in place and I make the fastest exit I can. We sit in the balcony. Where we have been for hours. Dance recital day is all consuming. Rehersal, hair and finding the right ti...
Post a Comment
Read more

different

Someone recently sent me a meme about tattoos. I reminded them that I have over half a dozen, although none in such obvious places as the picture. I thought about it while I washed my hair, and how once my hair was also purple, and what kind of memes could be found about that. And also, my nose was pierced. Other than the first two tattoos, none of these were things I did in my youth. All were in my thirties. Currently my hair is a plain brown in a sensible cut. My tattoos all easily hidden with most clothing and only my ears are pierced. As this decade closes I have made efforts to dress more professionally, drink less, stay on top of the laundry although I still refuse to make my bed and talk at an appropriate volume level. Yet, I only looked back on my purple-haired days with longing rather than regret. See, I used to do those things to be different.   Sometimes I’d feel just a little trapped by my suburban life although perfect, felt a little too predictable. I fel...
Post a Comment
Read more

voice

I remember waking up the day after the election tired and stunned. When I got to work I went downstairs to make copies and make some tea and did not make it back to my classroom until right before the tardy bell rang. I have a large class, full of all kinds of students from all kinds of backgrounds. I had not even thought about how they would respond to the election and that since we begin school so early that I might be the first adult they saw that day.  Immediately an African American on the front row told me that she was disappointed in our country. I teach science, not government and thought that I needed to turn the conversation as quickly as I could safely back to the objectives on the board, but I could not ignore her hurt and the rest of the quiet in the room. I told her that  regardless of what candidate she supported that this country is run by more than one person, that very soon she would be able to vote, that she had a voice. Behind her, a student that also ha...
1 comment
Read more