So I was just saying to myself a half hour before, You gotta stop doing so much. It’s no service to you, or your children. It won’t make you happier if you take on one more activity.
And then my husband was telling me just fifteen minutes before, You’ve gotta give the kids more time to get ready to prepare before we leave. Can you just do some things another day?
I protesteth: “But if we don’t do Latin now, we’ll never do it“.
Don’t judge me….Latin is a valuable tool in the kids’ education.
Many things I am good at, but time management, not so much…
I stood up to start yelling someone up the stairs and boom, down I went. What was two weeks ago, a sprained ankle, just became a ripped ligament. And the bus stoppeth there!
Here I sit. Advilled, and iced, awaiting my ankle boot and crutches, and I’m pretty sure I know that the message has been sent from above to seal my fate. Stop the bus!
The ping pong game of my mind for the months following our last autumn’s Africa trip is this…
1. PING…….Get busy. Lots of stuff to do. Meaningful stuff, like piano lessons and theatre practices and gymnastics and dance recitals and youth groups and design that house and gotta get that book written…
2. PONG….What are we all so busy for? Busy busy busy, everyone is busy. Doing the important stuff, the less important stuff, the definitely not important stuff, but it makes us feel so darn important, meaningful. Gotta keep moving at the breakneck pace of lightening…can’t be slower, gotta keep up. And for WHAT? We have everything on this side of the world, and still so discontent. Dunno why we’re all so busy, but that busy juice is leached in my blood.
Well, now I won’t be so busy.
I will likely write more. This I can do sitting down. I will likely not speed along memorizing the second decelension neuter conjugates of Latin nouns (though I will not stop entirely). I will likely decide that some extracurriculars aren’t required, because my mind, not just my foot, wants off the busy bus.
Why are we all doing too much anyway? To declare to the world that we have a place in this world. We’re relevant. We have value. I scream to the world, and definitely to myself, you are worthy. Sell the bus!