I’m pretty busy these days. Obvious, right? People always seem to want to know how I fit it all in, but the truth is… I never felt busy until now. There were three days of work, and three days of rest. There was one full day at church, and a few errands to run throughout the week. I’m not sure if it was Hadassah Lee’s arrival or the twins turning into toddlers or the big boys’ return to school, but it all got so busy so suddenly. And this isn’t the gross, approval-seeking kind of busy to which I referred last week. This is an exhilarating, we’ll-never-be-in-this-life-stage-again-so-let’s-soak-it-up kind of busy. This is the kind of busy that makes me plop onto the couch at the end of the night with a whoosh and an amen. Most days, this kind of busy sucks out nearly every ounce of my energy and yet I feel surprisingly refreshed. The exhaustion is fulfilling. I love it.
A friend once told me he’d like to move to thirty-six hour days, in order to gain enough time to get it all done and still obtain a decent night’s sleep. I feel the sentiment. I am not naive in thinking that I wouldn’t still find more things to cram into my days, but the idea of a few more hours does seem nice. Since that ain’t gonna happen, I’m choosing instead to keep things moving. I try to plan ahead, make time for rest, and enjoy the ride. Quite often, I don’t quite manage to fit everything in. Sometimes, there’s still work to be done. After I finish a long shift or an action-packed day at home, there are still meals to be eaten and baths to be taken. And that’s okay. There will be a little more time tomorrow, and the day after that. So I eat my dinner in the tub and keep things moving.