Like you, I have so much to do. So much, that sometimes I am paralyzed into doing nothing by the sheer weight of things to do befuddling my brain.
I have lessons to plan, and children to raise, and children to teach, and housework and cooking to do (although to be fair, DH does his more than fair share of that, and the eldest now washes the dishes – I had no idea how much time I spent at that damn sink doing dishes) and laundry, oh the laundry. And this secret project which is actually work and then the allotment, just constant ‘to do’ lists swimming constantly in front of my eyes. I don’t think I truly ever switch off; even when I’m relaxing I’m working at the same time; just sitting and staring into space is something I just can’t do. Even if I had the opportunity to. I wake up hustling. When my feet hit the floor the game is on.
I’m not even complaining about it. I’m just letting that fact be acknowledged: when people ask what I ‘do’ all day, I usually respond with ‘what DON’T I do?!’. Surely the arrogance of someone who has not spent time raising children at home is the only person who could utter such idiocy.
But mostly my ‘to do’ list, I find, when I boil it down, is in creating beauty in this home of ours. In one form or another. Living is an art form, really. Making it beautiful takes time and effort. We are more than the sum total of our parts. Even if the To Do list never really gets finished (ever), even if that To Do list is actually a list of lists, making life beautiful is actually a real blessing.
To do this week: take down the birthday bunting; take down the mid-winter decorations. Among a million other things.