Dropping the Ball

"Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible."

--St Francis of Assisi, a Very Smart Dude

My good friend Melissa gave me a card the other week with this quote on it. It is hanging in my cubicle at work, dead-center in my line of vision. This quote has become my mantra when I become discouraged at just how much I can't do at once.

Before having Oliver, I would hear mothers tell other mothers cheesey and obvious statements like, "you can't do it all," and "nobody's perfect." I used to think that these bits of brainless advice were directed towards mothers who were upset when they biffed a frosting job on one out of 52 cupcakes they baked for their kid's classroom, or mothers who felt guilty about purchasing a Halloween costume instead of sewing one. Mothers who, a la Kelly Rippa commercials, wear high heels while managing puppy parties and art projects, with hair that would never be caught up in a messy pony tail. I knew I wasn't one of these mothers, so I knew I would ignore the advice without batting an eye. Sure I bake, but the monkey-faced cupcakes I made for Oliver's birthday party on Sunday looked like birds wearing earphones. I don't have the energy to be a perfectionist, so I just went ahead and offered people a musical-bird cupcake.

But as the months go by, I am noticing that there are some pretty significant things that get missed and fall out of balance. One week I will be great about getting an okay amount of sleep, but then the laundry is never done. Another week we're never at a lack for clean underwear, but I can't seem to plan a meal better than noodles with a clump of butter and handfull of shredded cheese. This week, dear reader, it was my blog that fell by the wayside. But on the upside, I have planned out some cute outfits to wear, as I made time to shop for myself on Tuesday.

I'm learning that the advice about letting things go, that I can't do everything, really is for me. As in, I will likely never have the dishes put away and the mail sorted at the same time. If I blow-dry my hair, you can bet I didn't pack a lunch for the day. There's always a ball that's gotta drop. And when it starts to really bug me that there really isn't a time any more where everything in my daily life is in balance, I go back to that quote. I start by doing what's necessary. Oliver is well-fed with a clean butt and happy countenance. My husband loves me, and I get around to feeding him, too. And more often than not, I keep myself showered, and spend time in prayer. Then I move on to what's possible for the day. On days when I don't feel I can do much else after the necessary, I try to let it go. Somebody very special taught me how to do just that.