How do the weeks just do this, again and again and again? One day it's Monday, the next you realize it's already Friday because Shira is excitedly preparing for Shabbat. And then it's Monday all over again. This week felt as though it came crashing down on me. This was not a gentle nudge but a two-handed push toward all that's on my plate. (Speaking of plates, I hope this is on it this week. And this. This, too.) You know when you have that silent conversation with yourself that goes something like this: Seriously, have you not finished that yet? Still no? I'm very disappointed in you. Or is that just me?
I've taken a lot of time away for just me lately, not the kind of time that sort of just happens when you avoid your work (or again, is that just me?) but those delicious stolen moments of deliberate decision to say yes to something good. I took a few great days off around my birthday and another couple this weekend to spend some time with good friends. There is little division in our house between work and rest (with the exception of Shabbat, an excellent reminder to slow down). Some of this comes from the nature of our work (writing, reading, typing, mostly on our own), but a lot of it arises from the decision to keep Shira at home instead of in daycare. We're always juggling our time, splitting the days into workable bits, hoping that we can cram in all the necessary details. I'm always interested how other families divide their days. How do you do it?
If you were a fly on the wall on a given evening in our house you would a) watch a lot of sports, and b) listen to Matt and I natter on about how to divide the next day. We usually need to decide on the following: who gets up with Shira, who sleeps in (or hides in the bedroom working while the other feeds the children breakfast), who works from home that day while the other escapes to a quiet library or office, and how long each of us needs to work in the evening. Exhausted? Me, too. But in the middle of all this work-talk there are so many moments, both exhausting and exhilarating, that squeeze themselves in no matter the negotiations. This is where it really gets good. You can't pre-schedule time to watch Alyce and Pomegranate become fast friends early one morning last week, the first time Pomegranate willingly endured her pets and rubs. No, those moments just happen, schedule or not.
This is what I think about sometimes while I'm listening to Matt (wisely) asking me to plan the next day's schedule. Yes, there is a lot of work to be done, a lot of schedules to accommodate. But mostly I'm just waiting for all those moments that happen anyway. Mondays will keep turning into Fridays. Bring it on.