The Time Crunch

This past week really hasn't been one of my finest. For someone who would rather be in a classroom filled with kids than just about anywhere else in the world, today I was very happy that it was Friday. That's something I don't say real often. Something I don't ever say, really.

It has nothing to do with teaching or school, though. I'm just exhausted. Exhausted from a calendar threatening to overburden its tiny nail and pull lose from the wall. Exhausted from overextending myself with well-intentioned promises. Exhausted from being too exhausted to go to bed.

Tonight my mom told me that one of our friends said to her "Have you ever noticed that by Friday night Chris and Tricia look like they've just been through a war?" It's an obvious overstatement but the sentiment is true. By Friday night I barely have the energy to carry on a conversation at dinner. I often finish eating quickly and rest my head against the back of the chair in an attempt to "rest my eyes" the way my grandparents used to do in the middle of the afternoon.

We did this to ourselves, though. Last Spring we had made the decision that the kids would need to pick just one activity for the year. The plan was for the girls to pick something to do in the Fall (probably horse back riding) and for the boys to choose something in the Spring (most likely baseball). But then there were scouts.

"There aren't really that many meetings," we reasoned. "And besides, it's so much fun and they provide a lot of great opportunities for the kids to go camping and pick apples and ice skate and go to summer camp."

It's a slippery slope - this reasoning.

"Well," we said a few months later. "The Fall baseball season is shorter and the boys are both starting a new league in the Spring. Fall Ball is pretty relaxed and they'd probably benefit from the opportunity to get a little extra practice."

Uh, oh.

"Besides, they really love playing."

And they do, too. It's one thing to stand against the over-scheduling of our kids' lives but what about when those are the very activities they love the most?

"Ahhh Dad," the girls might argue. "You mean we have to quit horse back riding halfway through the year? The boys are playing in the Fall and the Spring!"

Hmmmm.

"Well," we'll reason again. "Horse riding is only once a week and we have a carpool so we really only have to take them and pick them up once every two weeks. That's not too bad. Maybe they could do the whole year."

Until a night when we have two baseball games, a scout meeting, and I don't get home from my graduate class until 7:15 to help.

Tricia and I have never had trouble saying no to the kids but suddenly it occurs to me that there's one area where maybe we have. It wasn't as though we were trying to spoil them. I'm not even sure we were spoiling them. We weren't filling their world with material possessions or succumbing to temper tantrums, whining, or crying.

We were just trying to provide them a happy childhood. We were keeping them active and away from the television. We were helping them build memories we would all one day sit around and fondly recollect.

Except that I've noticed these memories are slowly encroaching upon other memories we used to build. The ones of us sitting in the front yard together. Or playing a game together. Or having the energy to run around the house laughing together.

So maybe these choices we're making come with a consequence. Perhaps what we need to do is reevaluate what's most important to us as parents, and as a family, and reassess how we're choosing to spend our time. Because I've noticed we're not sitting in bed together reading books every night. And some things are far too important to give up.