Getting things done

When I was a teenager in church I had a teacher who I didn't relate to very well. She gave a lesson one week about how if she did x (I couldn't even tell you what x was, though I was clearly not impressed to begin doing x) she could "get more things done". I vividly remember thinking to myself, "what are THINGS, is life only about getting THINGS done?" I assured myself I would never have that life.

Then I became a mother. . . of four. And it seems now, life is about getting things (read: laundry, dishes, housework, homework, taxes, bill paying, and so forth) done. Last year I got so sick of getting things done that I tried to count the things I got done that could not be undone (dishes, laundry and housework clearly do not qualify). I felt like it was a total waste to clean up one mess while the next room over was being destroyed. And you wouldn't think it was that hard, but I found I was thrilled if I at least got one of those every day.

From Christmas

Then I started having my mid-mother-life crisis. My middle child is half way done being home (they are SO leaving when they are 18) and I wondered, does she find my life as dull as I found my teacher's?

From Christmas

Then yesterday I watched Wally button his shirt, a feat for which he refused assistance and took no less than an hour to complete. I thought, "I couldn't be 3 again - are you kidding, if it took me an hour to button my shirt I wouldn't get anything done. But then I thought of little Wally, and how he could look at that shirt all day long and feel a huge sense of accomplishment. And how I look at all I get done with amazing efficiency, yet feel like I accomplish nothing because there's so much more to do.

From Christmas

In response to all this waxing philosophical, I am instituting "more fun, less done". I'm hoping fun takes many forms, learning new skills, discovering more about the people I love, making time for the tasks that bring me satisfaction, regardless of my efficiency. I'm not saying more play less work, but more meaning less mundane. I have finally done the math (with some help from a calculator) and doing it all is impossible, so I refuse to measure my existence by how many things I got done. Don't worry, Randy, I'll still do the laundry since I am still too poor to hire it out. But I will dispose of efficiency in favor of what makes me feel alive.

And we're starting tomorrow with the return of the sit-down hot breakfast. It's technically more work than the "throw it down the hatch in the car breakfast bar as we rush off to school hoping to beat the bell" (which totally works if hot breakfast doesn't make you feel alive), but oh, the joy of eating muffins with the people I love while talking about the hopes and dreams for the day, even if they are limited to getting one's shirt buttoned.