Going into last week, I knew it was going to be busy. I had multiple things to do on every day and a day where I had to be two places at once.
Looking back…I don’t know how I pulled it off. I do know that going into the week, I was completely overwhelemed and stressed. Meaning, I snapped at my kids more and was probably a ray of sunshine to be around.
But! Then Saturday came. Beautiful, glorious Saturday. On Saturday I sleep in. On Saturday I didn’t work out. And on this particular Saturday, I had nothing to do.
Now, there is something you need to know about me. I am horrible at doing nothing. I feel lazy and gross if I sit on the couch all day. But, last week, I knew I needed a day to do nothing, a day to recharge. Saturday was my day to slow down.
And I did. Connor woke me up by standing in front of my face and yelling “momma” over and over. But after that fiasco, we just laid in bed…me drinking coffee, him with his chocolate milk, until the others woke up.
Then…we did whatever the heck we wanted to do. No agenda and no to-do list. The entire day, we just went with the flow.
I watched the kids draw. We did puzzles together. Laundry got done. And yet, I felt completely relaxed. I was able to legit relax and get shit done without feeling rushed or feeling like a total failure for leaving things on my way to long list of things to do.
And it was glorious.
Plus…the kids didn’t fight at all. Somehow, we were able to move through the day seamlessly. Minus bedtime because bedtime is always hell.
But Saturday taught me something. I rush around constantly with a to-do list as tall as I am. Every single day, I stress over what I can get down and stress again at the end of the day over the things I didn’t get to. At 33, I’m finally learning I can’t do it all, that I will never be able to do it all. But, I can do my best.
So, I’m done with to-do lists. I’m done with making my kids wait for my attention. Done with feeling like a failure because I can’t do it all. My family doesn’t care if the to-do list gets done. I’m the only one who cares. And at 33 years old, I feel like it’s finally time to start living this life I love. Time to start slowing down and enjoying every day that I can. It’s time to savor the moments instead of missing them.