Sometimes We Eat Cereal For Supper

by Elizabeth

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Some days I spend hours reading aloud with my kids. Sometimes that means science doesn’t get done. Other days we pore over science books for hours, but grammar doesn’t get done. Some days we get all the subjects done, but I run out of time to prepare dinner. On days like those we eat cereal for supper. But only if we have milk in the house.

Or we might eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for supper. But only if we have bread in the house. Because even with dedicated weekly meal planning and shopping trips, I can rarely keep enough bread or milk in the house. Which makes for a lot of husband-texts like “please pick up bread or we won’t have supper” and “please get milk or there will be no breakfast.” If all else fails, I pop popcorn.

Some days not every school subject gets done, but I dance with my younger kids and laugh at my older kids’ jokes. Other days I put in a good, solid school day with the kids and feel satisfied but much too tired to write. I’m almost always too tired to exercise. Mostly I force myself to work out. I know from experience what happens if I don’t. Sometimes I don’t get to my email for weeks. Or I go for weeks without having time or mental energy to write. In those times I can really become unpleasant to live with.

Sometimes I go months without spending time with my closest friends. Sometimes I have so many social, school, and ministry engagements that I don’t get sufficient time by myself to be a kind, sane person. Sometimes I’m so worn out by all this busy rushing that I lock myself away and skimp on spending time with my husband. Other times I choose to hang out with my husband regardless of what else “should” be getting done. And nothing does get done, but I sure am happy. I have discovered, in fact, that husband time is the biggest key to my happiness.

Sometimes I bemoan the fact that I can’t do everything all the time. That I can’t seem to get my life in order and pull myself together and balance all the needs. But maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe every day isn’t supposed to contain every thing. Maybe each day is only supposed to contain some of the things. Maybe something is always going to fall through the cracks.

And maybe I’m supposed to be ok with that.

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