I was thinking today of how my life lacks spontaneity. Last minute decisions, errands, outings, adventures no longer make their way into my daily life. It’s not that I have become a hermit or have developed Agoraphobia. I leave the house almost every day. I run errands. I visit the beach, the park, the mall, the grocery store. I go out to eat with friends. But everything seems to be meticulously planned. OK, not so much meticulous – more haphazardly most times. But PLANNED.
It seems that when an idea of going somewhere or doing something comes across my mind, I can no longer just simply act on it. I am forced to run through a laundry list of details. Here’s my brain…
“When did Buggy eat, sleep, poop last? When will he eat, sleep, poop next? I need to change his diaper. I need to bring along a diaper. And wipes. And a sippy cup in case he gets thirsty. And shoes in case he wants to walk. Which stroller do I need? Do I need to pack a lunch? A snack? Will we have time to make it there and back before eating or sleeping needs to occur? Have I showered? Have I brushed my teeth? Am I wearing clothes?”
And that’s just to go somewhere around town. Don’t get me started when we decide to go to the beach for the day. And my brain can’t WAIT for our 3-day vacation…
When you have a young child in tow… one that sleeps 12 hours at night, naps twice a day, eats 3 square meals and 2 snacks a day, and doesn’t enjoy too much monotony or change… outings require planning (even if he doesn’t come with you, oddly enough). Because picking up and going just isn’t that simple.
I know there are mothers out there that fly by the seat of their pants with babies hanging from every limb and life is grand, wonderful, and full of surprise. Great, good for you. But I was not blessed with good luck. Things don’t work out well for me when I just go with it.
Just as quickly as I thought about the lack of spontaneity, I was reminded that it’s a lack, not a complete abyss. I may not jet off whenever and wherever. But each day has its own surprises. As small as they may be, they are each important and exciting in their own way.
Buying an ice cream cone on our walk through Maymont. Buggy turning himself around in circles, giggling, to feel that dizzy feeling. Finding blocks in the pasta pot. A hug and kiss after a tickle. “You’re a great Mom,” from my husband. This is the “spontaneity” of my life these days. I wouldn’t have it any other way.