Somehow it got to be after 10pm tonight. The evening went way to fast and as usual, I’ve not gotten done nearly all that I wanted to get done. I don’t know how that happens every. single. night. I don’t feel like I’m wasting time or goofing off, but perhaps I am.
It’s quiet here. Thing 1 is working at camp so he’s gone all week. Thing 2 is on a missions trip. Thing 3 is spending the week doing a paid internship with my father and Thing 4?
On the couch, her nose in a book, where she’s been since school let out. I attempted to spend some time with her tonight, asking her if she’d like to play cards with me, but she politely declined stating she really wanted to finish her book. (She started the book at 4pm this afternoon and she’s already done.)
And so here I sit, the biggest item on my agenda is making a plan for Messy Olympics on Wednesday and creating my shopping list and I’m just not into it.
Messy Olympics is my least favorite day of the summer but it’s the all time favorite of the kids. I’ve known some parents, at the request of their children, to plan vacation around messy olympics and I guess it’s a mystery to me why anyone would want to get that dirty.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind getting dirty… but there’s something about sliding around in pudding or dumping slime (vanilla pudding) all over my head and calling it a day.
I just can’t do it.
So, I’m grateful I get to just plan it and not actually play.
There’s no point to this really other than, I’ve had the urge to put words on paper – Of course, I’ve had crafted blog posts, ones that would go viral for sure, in my head but by the time I get to a place where I can write them down, they’re gone. Most times, I can’t even remember the topic of them.
I know one was on navigation and navigating through life. I think it might of had to do with how I find myself in a different stage of life with a child who has graduated from high school – but I can’t be for sure.
I keep telling myself there will be time for all of the things I WANT to do when the kids are older, when they don’t need me as much. But I guess I fear that by then, I won’t know what I want to do, or what to do with the silence or the free time.
Perhaps, I just worry too much. Not perhaps, I know that I do.
What I do know is that I love the feel of just watching the words go across the screen. Even if they don’t make any sense to anyone but me… and maybe not even me.
Perhaps I should carve a little more time out for this.