My cousin recently wrote a blog post called “Why We Are Not Busy.” (http://tumbledweeds.wordpress.com/2011/04/26/whywe-are-not-busy) I have been thinking on this topic lately and have come through my own journey from busy to less busy.
With my first baby, I signed up for many activities of the “mommy and me” nature. Even saying that phrase brings back waves of nausea. I did it, though, because I thought that’s what you did. Plus, I was trying to distract myself from this new job of motherhood—which I will admit, I wasn’t in love with. (Make the distinction between not being in love with my new role with not being in love with my new baby. It was only the former.) The activities I liked best, it turned out, felt the least “mommy-and-me-ish.” For example, hiking with other moms while baby slept in the pack on my back. Gymboree class was not for me, although I did fake-smile and sing through the 9-week session, since I had paid for it. In his early years, I never felt like I over-scheduled my son, but even the few activities we did never felt quite like a fit either. When son number two came along, Will (age 3 ½) was engaged in the occasional gymnastics or swim class. Now having to get two kids dressed and ready, diapers and snacks packed, and out the door to be somewhere by an actual time put me in a downright agitated mood. Kids just don’t understand time—at all. It was like herding cats. So, the writing was on the wall for little Elias’s future as a soccer tot extraordinaire. The poor kid has never been registered for a class. He’s now almost 3 ½.
In fact, over the last year or so, I’ve signed up for fewer and fewer kiddie classes. It happened slowly. I went through various phases of still participating in activities and/or feeling guilty that my kids were not getting a jump start on whatever sport they were destined to medal in. But over time, I have refined and clarified my approach, and now we do very few official activities. Our days have less structure, yet they feel more full—in a good way.
Talking to a friend the other day at the park, I was trying to convince her that it’s okay to not have her first grader completely overscheduled. To this she answered, “Ya, but it’s tough when you look next store at Betty Sue who is also in first grade and knows how to swim and ski… and she’s already really good at tennis.. and she takes art classes.. and for spring break she’s taking a trip to the… Grand Canyon or something… to do some service project to help the… Hopi Indians!” This mom was somewhat tormented by worrying that she was going to fail her kid in some way. We are all going to fail our children in one way or another, but perhaps it would be good for each of us to at least feel like we followed a path that was genuinely our own.
Here’s what I’ve decided: it stressed me out too much to schlep kids all over town. It involved too much yelling and feeling tense about being on time. The cost outweighed the benefit. And, they are kids. They are supposed to play and use their imaginations to create worlds in which to grow and think and figure stuff out. And, as long as they live in a safe and happy environment, they are most likely living a very rich life, in which they are making art, acting, dancing, playing sports and developing skills and passions. For free. There’s another part of this picture that I’ve also come to terms with. My sons have me for a mom, with my gifts and my limitations. One of my limitations seems to be that I just can’t stomach participating in lots of structured activities. On the flip side, because my boys have me for a mom, they get some things from me that maybe other kids don’t get from their parents. Not better or worse… it’s just going to be their experience. It will all be just fine.
