Perfectly Unproductive

by | Motherhood | 0 comments

It was shaping up to be one of those weekends. Two kids had important activities they were required to attend. Taylor had a volleyball tournament in Indianapolis. Closer to home, Madison had a music contest on Saturday. Curt and I decided to divide and conquer. He’d take Taylor. I’d stay with Madison.

Then the snowstorm hit. Yep, I know it’s the end of March. Welcome to Illinois.

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At first, I was bummed. (We could’ve gone to Taylor’s tournament!) Then I looked on the bright side. I would be home ALL weekend – with nowhere to go on Saturday!

My mind raced with all the glorious things I could accomplish. First, I’d start reading a book that’s been patiently waiting for me on the top of the pile. Then, I’d write. I had several nonfiction stories brewing. Or I could work on my novel. I’m still trying to figure out my characters. Maybe I’d start plotting. Also, a whole weekend would give me plenty of time to dig into spring cleaning – even if it did look more like Christmas outside.

But somewhere in the midst of my plans, I realized something. I had an entire weekend with my 13-year-old ahead of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a whole weekend alone with this kid. Who knew if it would ever happen again?

I thought of my firstborn, away at college. And my 16-year-old, who will be a senior next year. I’ll always have stories to write or housework to do. But I won’t always have a 13-year-old all to myself for the entire weekend.

So, what did we do?

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We watched chick flicks like Steel Magnolias and The Help. (Who doesn’t like a reminder that they are “kind, smart and important”?) We played with the puppy. We baked chocolate chip cookies. We slept in late. Wore pajamas all day. Took naps.  
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And, thanks to technology, I watched Taylor play volleyball at her tournament. I can’t say I had a productive weekend, but I can say this:

It was practically perfect.    

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