I had a bit of a freak out last night when I realised that my next two weeks are basically booked solid. And I haven’t got there yet but they are already looking like a marathon. I don’t know if I’m saying ‘yes’ when I should be saying ‘no’ or whether I just need to accept that this is a very busy season of life and grow with it.
I don’t know.
I’ve had visitors staying with us on and off for the last two months and for all of the school holidays so far. It’s been hectic. I feel the energy levels running low and yet the term is just about to begin and it’s already too tight to mention. I want to be full of hospitality and visit the sick and spend quality time with my children and write fabulous curriculum for work and keep a beautifully clean and well-organised home and love my husband with small kindnesses and discipline my children well and catch up with old friends and cook beautiful food and get my hair cut and do some kind of regular exercise and read books and ensure all my children’s homework and piano practice is actually done and prune the roses. And broker world peace.
But that’s not going to happen.
There’s a little buzzer going off somewhere in my gut saying that I am flying too low and too fast. I’m not sure whether to stamp on it and get a better attitude (is this all one big fancy whinge? first world problem?) or listen to it and take a rest. But I can’t worry about that right now. I need to go shoe shopping with the five-year old whose sneakers have a hole in them.