My in-laws are in town for a few days so I have decided to borrow their help with the kiddos so I can get a few things done (that are normally really difficult to do with both the boys). This morning I successfully made it to four stores and back home in an hour and twenty minutes. Shocking I know. I even impressed myself. I then proceeded to vacuum and steam all the floors, make lunch, get the dishwasher running and check emails . . . and it’s only 1pm.
I am by nature a list-maker, a do-er, a task-oriented fiend. I feel victoriously accomplished when I can cross something off the list and get something done in my life. It is very tempting for me to feel like I have been given the gift of super-productivity today . . . like this morning might be the most productive part of my entire week.
But it’s not.
I was reminded by Noah’s sweetly fixed gaze while he watched me check emails from Grandma T’s arms – that it is entirely possible that my most productive moments have nothing to do with lists or tasks or cleaning my house. All those things do in fact need to get done. But they are only necessary evils, and I’m beginning to think no one in my house gives a rip about any of them.
Noah would much rather be rocked in my arms, and Elijah would much rather play with his new paint set. I want to be productive on the things that matter most.