Not Ready for Anything Beyond Today

Somehow, a three day weekend threw me off royally.  This Tuesday reminds me of when one of my children goes to a friend's home for a night, my rhythm the next morning is missing.  The void of that presence, even if they're normally not up early in the day seems to color everything else around me, as I can think of 1000 things I'd do with the one child that's missing.   Likewise, if I'm out with only some of my children, my arms keep reaching out and my eyes keep darting about worrying that I'm missing someone.  It's some how harder to keep count when there are less than the full ten at my side. 

Getting ready for graduation and one child moving on into the beginning of the adult world, my brain starts to swim with all the changes that will come once September rolls around.  Paul will be in a pre-school somewhere but we're still in the process of going through placement.  Five will be in elementary/middle school,  one in high school and that leaves a four year old who should go to pre-school but I'm waiting to figure out what the fall schedule will be before I can act, and the baby.   The juggling of three schools plus college threatens to overwhelm me even before we start.     

And then the immediate needs of my family snap me to my senses. The girls want a snack, Paul needs a change and the baby wants a bottle.  I have to take care of today.  That's it.  When today is in September, I will take care of that day, but right now, we're finishing May and I just have to work with these 24 hours and understand that I can grow anxiety any time I want, but it won't help with the tasks at hand now or then, so I should just weed those strangling vines of thought out of my head, pulling them for as long as they snare until there is nothing left.  

Today we have a driver's test and I have to reschedule an annual physical for two of my children; the older ones have band and I need to pay the bills and water the garden as it is 89 degrees outside.  I have two chickens and some potatoes to cook for dinner that should start in the oven around 4, and three thank you notes to write.   Plenty to manage in one day, no need to borrow from a tomorrow ninety days away. 

Time can crush the spirit if we allow the clock to rule the mind; measuring every moment like a commodity to be used, frittered, drained, wasted.  The day becomes a dreadful manifest of what we don't get to or don't finish. My to do list likes to nag that way; complaining every moment I'm on task and all the time I'm not.  Fortunately I have one daughter who makes the whole sun and a car out of construction paper and another girl who attacking the paper with a confidence despite not knowing what her drawing will be.  My baby plays with my nose and tries to hold her bottle while keeping her eyes locked on mine.  Her face flowers into a wide smile and my son creates his own world with a toy truck, giraffe, tiger, zebra and farmer at the table.  It's hard to get worked up about all that needs to be done when so much is happening in these slow unscheduled minutes.  

So I am not ready for anything beyond today, but thankfully, I have been reminded, that's all I have to be ready to do.