In a former life that I was living about 3 years ago I found myself almost 50 pounds overweight. My dress size was well in the double digits. I had back boobs. Not cool. I was able, thru dieting, to shed the weight. It took eight months. As soon as I dropped back into a comfortable 8 I ran, as fast as my now slightly slimmer legs could take me, to Goodwill with anything and everything over a size ten, then unceremoniously flung them at the donation door. Since that day I’ve managed to stay within 12 pounds of my goal weight (which is 140 in case you wanted to know and I am 5 foot 7 inches tall).
My point is not weight however. My point is time. I got so sick of reading all these self-help articles, suggestions and advice repeating over and over again, “You have to MAKE time to workout.” “You have to MAKE time for yourself.” Let me ask you this, who can ‘make’ time? There are 24 hours in a day, 168 hours in a week and 8,760 hours in a year. Nothing you or I can do can increase or decrease time. You have to learn to say ‘no’ to some things, ‘yes’ to other things and ‘maybe’ to a lot. You have to remember, you can not ‘make time’. You must use the time you have for what is most important for yourself and your family and God. God is the only one who can ‘make time’ and last I checked he wasn’t doling out any extra.
I think I am writing this to myself more than anyone else today. I am tired. I am tired and it is self-inflicted. I work 38 hours a week in a retail store. I home-school Addie at the store and at home depending on the day which means school must be portable and ready to load at all times because work is a 30 minute drive from home. Addie has piano lessons on Fridays, home-school meetings every other Wednesday, 4-H once a month plus GA’s every Wednesday night. I cook 2-3 hours a week on the side with a cake or two thrown in for good measure. I sell books which means I have a home party or two every month plus I have begun serving public schools and libraries. I am training for a half-marathon in December. My microscopic house is difficult to keep in order and my laundry rooms smells like a 14-year-old boy. Probably because a 14-year-old boy puts all his dirty laundry there every day before I get home. 14-year-old boys are musky but that is another story in itself. Oh, I have a blog too by the way, it is really great. 😉
I attempt to use my time wisely and am the self-proclaimed “Queen of the List”. I live by the spiral-bound notebook, my Precious.
(Cue ~ creepy voice and huge Gollum eyes).
I lost the Precious once. It wasn’t pretty. Fortunately I didn’t have to murder a Hobbit to get it back. My husband was in danger for about 30 minutes though. It was under the seat of my car. I have a new notebook now, and it is full of lists, notes and obligations. I am going to make a valiant attempt to hack away the excesses that are wearing me thin. Did you know I’ve vowed every year since Addie was born to make a Gingerbread House with her? She is six and last year we made Gingerbread people, homeless Gingerbread people. Six years. I see her growing before my eyes and my mid-thirties rapidly approaching and I want to scream “STOP!”. But I can’t make it stop, or even slow down for that matter. I can use my time more wisely. I can cut back on those things which, in the end, won’t matter.
Gingerbread houses matter. Walks matter. Being kind matters. Time matters. Slow down. Take away the excess. Breathe. And remember, super-busy self, you can’t ‘make’ time, you can only manage the time you are given.
photos courtesy of impactonline, toptenenz.net and wikipedia. 🙂