Years ago, when this blog was just a baby, I posted about people who cry, “I’m too busy!” constantly. I thought it was a cop-out then. I still do today. I grabbed a hurried lunch with a friend the other day because we had literally not seen each other since early August or earlier. She asked how I was.
How am I? I hate to say it, but, “Busy.” We are ALL busy. I work a couple of days a week for pay, but I am putting in substantial volunteer hours on political campaigns. I volunteer at school. I try to keep my household running, healthy meals on the table, clean clothes in the closets, and the like.
I am in bed at 9 PM, and often asleep within minutes. Rob congratulated me last night for staying awake past 10. Neither of us remembers the last time I did that.
I haven’t scrapbooked. I haven’t learned all the tricks of my new camera. I haven’t put any meaningful time into my genealogy research in almost a year.
I don’t have the luxury right now of choosing to spend my time that way. My free time, what there is of it, finds me reading a book. Watching The Big Bang Theory with my kids and laughing. Taking a few imperfect pictures of my family.
They are 15, 13 and 10. Ten years ago I longed for an afternoon to myself. The stuff I could have accomplished — without my 3 little shadows “helping” — was the stuff of dreams, of legend.
Now? We have homework. Scouts. Choir. Band. Dance. Youth group. We have friends and Homecoming parades and football games and, well, less free time.
We all struggle with time — where has it gone? What am I doing with it? Why don’t I have enough of it?