Saturdays are my favorite days. I get to wake up to a full house, make breakfast for the whole family, and decide whether or not I want to make a plan for the day. On some Saturdays we hit up all kinds of events and activities. On other Saturdays we go about our day at our own pace and if that means we’re still in our pajamas at lunchtime, so be it.
As I sit here typing with a spiced chai and a view of the falling snow, I hear the distant giggles of my kids. And just like that, my sip of steamy goodness is interrupted by an ear-piercing scream immediately followed by a vicious cry and yet I continue to sit here and type. Why? Because it is Saturday and my husband is home. My back-up. My in-house entertainer. My partner. I love Saturdays.
This Saturday is especially enjoyable. My day is planned for me and it doesn’t include stepping foot outside. I hand over our lovely little responsibilities to capable hands and reconnect with myself.
As I miraculously find myself with a moment to gather my thoughts, I think about the value of our time. A moment. A point in time that will inevitably be taken over by the next moment. I want to believe that time is what you make of it. That you can fill up your time with business or pleasure. That you can fill it up with everything or nothing. That you can control your time and lose control of time. And then I realize that I’m a mom. All I know for certain is that our endless list of motherly duties takes up so much time and leaves so little time to digest what’s happening. Juggling activities, driving, cooking, healing, cheerleading, entertaining, fixing, fundraising, cleaning, and the madness of the week.
This is where I outline how to take back control of our time, live at our own speed, and make the most of our precious moments. I wish I had a formula but there are too many variables that affect our day by day. We try to keep our heads above water, be in seven places at once, maintain an energy level comparable with a Division I athlete, and avoid resembling a robot mechanically maneuvering our way around town.
Yet there’s a part of me that thinks the ridiculousness isn’t all bad. It’s what makes us mothers. Somewhere buried beneath all the madness is a steady and fulfilling impulse to squeeze every last second out of every minute. We want to make the most of every moment and be there in every moment. Herein lies the importance of balance. Making the most of your moments doesn’t necessarily mean doing something. Sometimes it’s in the moments of doing nothing where you find the deeper meaning(s) of your existence.
It is at this very moment I find balance. I find my moment of peace [cue deafening whistle] and for just a moment, I am as peaceful as the falling snow.
