There are questions, questions, and more questions.
Instead of pretending we have the answers, or even trying to package the questions in pretty little quotes overlaying photos, why don't we just blurt them out?
Let's all admit we don't have a damn clue what we are doing.
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I.
My son came home from school the other day and saw me sweeping the floor.
His first question?
"Who is coming over??"
II.
My husband happened to be off of work this morning, so he helped with getting the kids ready.
Twenty minutes away from the bus arriving, I mentally ran over the things I needed to do. Not wanting to place too much of a burden on him (as he was doing his own things), yet wanting to make sure I could do MY things...and our daughter could get on the bus on time, I made a decision.
On and on and faster and faster we go
to the next day
or the next paycheck
or the next weekend
or after that assignment is done
or when the kids are back in school
Image Credit: http://walltoyou.com/4725/atari-breakout-game.html
My schedule the past few weeks has been packed, at least by my definition. I'm constantly moving between activities with the kids, computer time, and housework. The space in between the activities is dwindling, with less and less time to pause before moving onto the next thing. It is that which has me concerned.
I used to THRIVE on this type of frantic schedule. I lived with a constant sense of anxiety in my stomach. If that anxiety wasn't there, it felt like something must be wrong. (....Yeah.) I was busy and felt justified in that busy-ness. An exhausted sigh and a glance at my watch before I started a conversation made me feel important.
I had a lot to learn.
Several days ago, I found myself in line at the groccery store. In front of me were two ladies with maybe 15 items.
The cashier quickly scanned through their items, sliding them along to a bagger at the end of the counter.
The bagger was an elderly gentleman, placing each item carefully into a plastic bag. His pace didn't match the cashier's, and soon, all three women were waiting on the bagger to finish. The cashier, with a harried sigh, started grabbing items and putting them into bags, pushing them towards the women who were checking out. Her impatience and that of the women in front of me was tangible.