Making time for time
I have no time. I’m sure you don’t either. There’s no time for quality conversations with other adults. There’s no time for quality skin care (thank GOD for my sister’s products or I would look even older than I already felt). There’s not enough time to even make more time.
So what do we do? We moms of littles. We moms of many. We moms of one. We working moms. We at home moms. We healthy moms. We struggling moms. We strong moms. We tired moms. We bold moms. We translucent moms.
I’ve been hit hard with this. In some ways, since I had my third, I’ve been on the go. In other ways, I was so forced to stop and slow down I thought I’d never be able to have my get up & go again. We have traveled a lot, conference, other conference, weddings, family visits. But I also was in bed for almost two months after I had him because of that pesky infection in my uterus that knocked me supine.
Time is slipping away, wriggling away from me. I never have enough time on the phone with my siblings. AA and I never have enough time with each other. I can never get enough of reading with my kids and answering their insistent questions.
SuperBoy: So when we die, our bodies decompose, and the deer eat us?
Me: Not necessarily the deer, but yes, our body will decompose.
SuperBoy: Why not deer? Vultures? Moose? Black Bears?
SweetPea: But why does my book not smell?
SweetPea: Baba said I should eat it right up but it doesn’t smell like something I want to eat.
Making time might not happen. It’s like a New Year’s resolution for moms, right? I’m going to make more time to do everything I need and want and feel guilty about. These minutes are galloping away with me and before I know it, it’s rise & shine & baby nurse//biting and the big kids crowding our bed to give morning “love pat” AKA slaps to their brother.
So I’m not going to resolve to make time anymore. I just going to make room for time. I’m going to be less active about MAKING the time for me//them//delicious food//my list and simply sit. I hope by creating the emotional space in my life for “time” by letting the anxiety about it go. If time fills in that little moat around my brain castle, great. If I have the same amount of time, great. If I actually have less time, great.
Making time for time for me means, today, to simply stop worrying about not having enough time. You cannot snatch up time. I wish I could grow it on trees or the indoor seedlings we’ll start soon. Let go, make space, sit and watch inside.
Easier said than done, but the rat-race-cessation starts within. I’m starting . . . now. You, too, my friend?