I used to be the kind of person who would just deal straightaway, nose-to-the-grindstone until every last carton was empty. I've shed that skin, as anyone who's visited our house in the past months and years can attest. It's messy, but I'm happier. We all are.
The tasks and chores of life are inevitable, stacked especially high when you have small children who need snacks every few hours and go through entire wardrobes in a single day. Chasing those chores and checking off urgent to-do lists fries me, so I try keep a much sweeter pile of tasks in the fore: hang out - really hang out - and do a puzzle with Zoey, take the dogs for a walk and notice - really notice - the leaves, cook with Stella - and not with my iphone.
It's harder than it sounds, but I'm getting better at it. And I just wedge the boring-but-essential tasks in the background.
Or, in some cases, the bathtub, which is a perfect spot for the pile of clean laundry.
A few weekends ago, it seemed that we might not have much longer before the leaves fell from the trees and winter showed up in earnest, so I put aside the moving boxes and hopped into the car for a tromp up Mt. Blackmore with a friend. Mr. V. cheered me on, as I do him when he drops everything to soak up some adventure. Having your partner support you in playing hooky from all the responsibility of adult and parenthood is a supreme treasure.
The day was warm; I felt silly stuffing my pack with a down vest and jacket, as well as mittens and a hat. But you never know.
Turns out that while the valley was still lush and green,
the mountains had some snow.
And then more than some snow.
We grew cold, and I grew a little tired, (my friend handled the eleven miles with far more grace than me,)
but it was worth every non-efficient, non-to-do-list-ticking-off second.
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