An Open Letter to Over-Scheduling
I wish I could write a super long letter, but let’s face it, you won’t let me.
I’m in a hurry to make my daughter’s therapy appointment. First I need to go to the post office, the bank, pick up lunch, and drive all the way across town to make it in time to sit in the waiting room. Oh, and then I have to go to the store….but I digress. You’ve been hanging around our house a lot lately, and I’m wondering how we can possibly co-exist.
Summer time was so nice. You went on vacation for a couple of months. I found myself with a book. SHOCK. I found myself wading my toes in the baby pool watching the clouds float by. SHOCKER. I spent time writing, dreaming, and even doing a little napping. BIGGEST SHOCK EVER.
The warmer days were spent quickly. The funny thing is, I thought I missed you. When August rolled around, I looked at the calendar on my refrigerator with excitement. I picked a rainbow of pens to organize our family’s schedule.
I began writing. Gymnastics. Piano lessons. Another day. Another color pen. Soccer practice. Therapy. Another therapy.
Forget this. I gave up and wrote in black. It seemed to match my mood. The more I wrote on the calendar, the less excited I felt.
I day-dreamed about our relationship. Maybe it would be different this time. Maybe we could get along. Maybe I could get my act together and not let you bother me so much. I don’t mind you, as much as the friends you bring with you. Stress. Anxiety. Exhaustion. Let’s face it, those three keep me from keeping my cool. So,if I must have you around, can you please leave the others home?
I wish I could write more, but I’ve gotta go...
Always In Hurry and Still Late Momma
Dear Always Late Momma,
Hi there, dear. I’ll make this brief. First, I’m sorry you feel that I always make you hurry. If you went to bed on time and got up earlier….well, I won’t go there.
Let’s get something straight: you’ve missed me because you love me. You love having your schedule full. Your personality thrives with me around.
I’m sorry about those horrible friends. But if we are being honest with one another, I’m not the only culprit here when it comes to stress, anxiety, and exhaustion. You invite them in too, you know. With your late nights and bad food choices…just saying. Also, I did not have four children. You did. You signed up for more of me as each bundle of joy came through the door.
And you could at least show some gratitude for my role in your personal development. I’ve taught you how to say no. I’ve made it so you’ve had to say noYou used to say yes, yes, yes…and that’s what introduced us in the first place. Now I’m around because you have four sweet little babies crawling all over you. Once again, your choice. But I’ve forced you to find the courage to say no.
I’ve also taught you the beauty of valuing your time. When a moment comes to cross-stitch in the middle of therapy, you relish it. When you remember to stash a book in your purse on your way to an appointment, you smile as you read a chapter. When you have nothing scheduled, you’ve learned to sigh and enjoy sitting on the floor being silly.
I’ve led you to discover how beautiful the best can be. You know, the good is often what competes with the best. Oswald Chambers said that, I think. When I have time, I’ll look it up. With me around you HAVE to find what is best. You HAVE to wade through all of the good things to find what is best. And that’s all thanks to me.
Till the next time we meet (I’m sure you will be late),