It all started on Monday when I posted a picture on instagram of some play dough I made mentioning that I always feel ambitious on Mondays. I got some flack for the ambitious Monday part. For me the week is brand new, the kids are back in school and I feel the unfolding week is ripe with promise. On Mondays, I can do anything! (by wednesday I’m overwhelmed and ready for a nap -case in point it is nearly 11 o’clock and I am still in my pajamas contemplating how much energy I will need to gird up to take a shower)
This week my Monday was full to the brim and didn’t stop until nearly 1am when I finished grading a third grade class worth of homework (that my daughter forgot to tell me about until Monday after school, it was due Monday and she had been carrying it around since Friday!). Busy-ness is not a badge of honor or worth, nor is it something I aspire to. I have made very deliberate choices in my life to keep my days calm with moments of stillness. Sometimes the crazy still creeps in, and it is never just a little bit crazy either- when it rains it pours.
I barely drug myself out of bed Tuesday morning to get the older kids ready for school and then take my daughter and her friends to preschool. My husband called between my errands and we talked. I gave him the run down of my day and how it would be one activity to another until 8pm and how I barely had the energy to move! In that moment of telling him about my day I realized that any number of calamities could happen to alter my day, and I knew that if they did I would be begging for my simple busy day. Buoyed by the thought that there is joy in the ability to make it through a crazy day, I picked up my daughter and her friends from preschool and we went to the park.
I get really overwhelmed at the thought of being responsible for entertaining lots (read more than one) of children. I knew that it was my turn to have the girls over but the anxiety of keeping them cooped up in my house for 3 hours was sending me over the edge. With the weather so nice I decided I would take them to the park for a picnic. After they ate, off they ran to play. I sat back in my chair and enjoyed a moment of stillness. I listened to the sounds in that moment… the soft whoosh of the cars on the nearby freeway, the giggles and shrieks of delight as the girls jumped and slid gently piercing the otherwise silent park and the quiet call of a bird somewhere deeper in the neighborhood. And, the feeling of the warm sun on my back.