Showing posts with label playing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label playing. Show all posts

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Time in a bottle



Mousse is time in a bottle



Twenty minutes a day. That’s the average time a woman spends doing her hair
every day! That adds up to almost two and a half hours a week and more than five full days a year. So, what the heck are we doing, ladies? 

Instead of gettin’ pretty, we could be reading, writing, chatting, running, playing, watching T.V., working, or any number of other things. We could be doing the things men who simply shower and shave have time to do.

I’ve always been a multitasker, so when I dry my hair I usually read or memorize. Then, when I’m curling and straightening, I often listen to music or podcasts. I know, I know. Friends tell me I should just relax, slow down and think. But, except for during the early morning hours when I first wake up, pondering has never come easily to me. Life seems to beckon me out of bed to begin...well, to begin living! For this very reason, my favorite hairstyles have always been the scrunch-n-go kind. 

I resent spending so much time to just look decent. So, I propose we use mousse—lots of it and lots more often. 

Mousse is time-in-a-bottle, baby! Even if we scrunch half the time we usually spend blowing and straightening and curling, we could recuperate enough hours for a weekend getaway. Now, that’s some time I’d want to keep in a bottle. 

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Doing double duty


Opportunities to nurture pass quickly


One night about eight years ago, everyone was upstairs watching T.V. while I was downstairs cleaning. After about an hour, my youngest son Mark, who was five years old at the time, came trotting down to find me in the laundry room trying to remove stains. He tugged on me a little and said, “Leave it for tomorrow. We don’t want you to be alone down here.” 

As a young mother, being alone was something I actually fantasized about, longing for the day I would have enough time to really “get something done.” I was touched, though, that this little boy cared about me enough to leave the pull of television and seek me out. Mark has always been concerned for me. In fact, when he was old enough to go to school, he would pray specifically for me during morning prayers: “Please bless Mom that she won’t be lonely at home.” The truth is, when I finally did have some hours alone, I felt a sort of guilty pleasure; every day was a private party of sorts. So, both our prayers were answered: I was alone but not lonely.

Those years of caring for little ones have passed, and now I spend most days alone with that time I once coveted, having several hours a day to do what I need to. These days I can shop without having to load children and groceries in and out of the car; I can bake without having to let others take a turn stirring; I can clean without having to teach others how to stick to an unpleasant job. 

The irony, however, is that checking off tasks on my to-do list sometimes feels a little hollow. Why? Because I’m not doing double duty anymore. 

Before, I somehow managed to run the house while also nurturing little ones. Now that nurturing doesn't make up the more significant portion of my days' ingredients, at the end of the day those completed tasks somehow seem just a little less fulfilling and meaningful than they once did. Before, my demands were double but so were my rewards.

Fortunately, even as he has grown into a teenager, Mark has consistently invited me to play. Without him, I would have spent more time cleaning and less time playing Kings’ Corners and Connect Four. Without him, I would have missed many fun games of tennis and ping pong. I would not have had someone to play catch with in the rain. 

Most importantly, without Mark, I would have missed out on lots of good laughs and conversations. In short, he has reminded me that nurturing is still one of my key responsibilities; it just looks a little different than it did when I had young children. Even Grant, my busy sixteen-year-old, habitually finds me late in the evening to snuggle up for a chat and some motherly affection. Just last night he said, as I was rubbing his head in my lap, “I like these times, Mom.”

These opportunities to nurture are much less frequent than they once were, and soon I will have no tennis partner to play with or teenager to snuggle. So, in the meantime, I hope I’ll have the good sense to nurture whenever and however, I can. I hope young mothers struggling to manage a home and family also manage to recognize the double portion of love, satisfaction, and meaning that is rightfully theirs.