Free Time

What I'm about to post might actually ruffle some feathers, so simply prepare yourself.

A couple weeks ago, I happened to be watching Dr. Phil (no, I don't watch regularly, but I wanted to watch something while ironing) and his panel was discussing a study published by a sociologist from UMD (I think) that suggested that stay-at-home moms have 40 hours of free time a week. Initially, I was appalled by such a claim. I know I don't have that much free time. Who does, really?

But then, as I thought about it, I realized that I do indeed have more free time than not. I don't always use that free time to read, scrapbook, or work on the computer, but I do indeed have quite a bit of time for myself.

Shocked by this epiphany, I shared my insight with a girlfriend who actually feels the same way. Despite us both having the responsibilities of caring for a child (or in her case, two children), we feel as though there IS enough time to accomplish all that we want to. Both of us actually felt (slightly) guilty by this admission, especially since it seems that so many people lament the lack of free time.

Curious about why it felt like we had so much more time than others, we agreed that it must have something to do with our organized natures. Routine is very much a part of our lives, though we both allow for other activities. (I have regular commitments each week, but that doesn't prevent me from scheduling other activities/ get-togethers/ errands.) For instance, I know that I'm going to do the laundry on Friday and Saturday. That's just a given. Or that I run to the grocery store on Thursday or Friday. Again, a given. The routine allows me to prepare for the week. Thus on Sunday, when I sit down and figure out my "to do" list for the week, I can quickly assess what it is that I'd like to do and figure out how best to fit that into my schedule.

I guess another reason why I have free time is that I know my limits. When I'm over-committed, I stress. If I don't have sufficient downtime during the week, then I feel overwhelmed. Realizing this over the past few years has allowed me to say no when certain opportunities arise. Though I might make an exception on occasion, I've been trying to stick to my convictions about what's best for me (and, therefore, my family). Take for instance evening activities. We're committed three nights a week, so I really value our family time the other four nights a week. I'd much rather just relax with Scott and Leah than go out on a weekday. I don't mean for it to be rude or selfish, but that's what works best for our family. (Again, I do occasionally make the exception, but if I pass on a weeknight opportunity, please don't take it personally.) Some of my favorite moments are playing in the family room with Scott and Leah after we've finished dinner. That's when we have a chance to just "be" as a family.

I don't know if these are the "secrets" to plenty of free time, but they seem to work for me. Of course, only caring for one child and not working outside the home helps, too.

My Sentiments Exactly

I happened upon this quote after posting my last entry, but I thought it tied in perfectly with what I had to say.

"I really love to clean. It's not anything compulsive, it's just that you can see a difference when you're through. Not like raising kids or something that you're not sure how it's going to turn out for a couple of decades." -- Jill Churchill, Farewell to Yarns

No Apologies

While working on one of my to-do list items for the week (cleaning), I came to the realization that this is a subject that most women I know apologize about/ for. For some strange reason, we women feel the need to justify our housekeeping skills or supposed lack thereof. But why? Why do we feel the need to explain why the dishes aren't washed or the bathroom is sparkling?

Honestly, I understand that not everyone is as compulsive as I am about cleaning, and I don't even feel like I'm really that compulsive. I simply like a clean house. That's it. That's part of who I am. And because of that "weird" facet of my personality, I make a point to clean the house every two weeks. (Sometimes I've been known to go three weeks between cleanings if that's what my schedule dictates, and, yes, I'm okay with that.) This doesn't mean I scrub all the baseboards (that's part of spring cleaning), but I do dust and vacuum. Again, I like the feeling and smell of a clean house.

The house might give the illusion of clean in-between cleanings because I also do not like clutter. At all. (Confession: There's a stack of papers sitting on our island that drives me crazy! It's stuff that we have to deal with eventually, but for now they're sitting there, taunting me.) So, basically, I put stuff away. Again, I just like an orderly home. Why should I feel the need to explain or justify that?

It's not that I'm not as busy as the next mom (though working moms or those with more than one child are definitely busier than I am), it's that I simply (again) like a clean house, so I make sure that it gets done. This is no different than the woman who exercises, or works, or spends time on the Internet; if it's in your nature, then you find a way to make it work.

So please don't feel the need to justify or explain the state of your home. I'm not insulted if it's not glistening. In the same respect, please don't just assume that mine is clean because I'm trying to impress someone. We are who we are, and we needn't apologize for that.

A New Favorite

Actually, I should have titled this "A Couple New Favorites" since Leah's added some new activities to her repertoire lately.

A week ago today, Leah discovered the stairs. I'm not exactly sure how this happened, but I hold Christine responsible. Prior to visiting her house last week, Leah hadn't been interested in the stairs, but once we got home, watch out! Aside from the 180 turnaround (from disinterest to fascination), Leah has also quickly mastered the steps. Prior to this transformation, she'd glance up the stairs, but wouldn't attempt climbing them. But when she climbed them last week, there was no hesitation on her part; she just took off up the stairs as if she's been climbing them for months.

Leah's other new fascination seems more like a game, really. Actually, Scott and I joke that Leah's sending her "friends" (stuffed animals) out for "help". What am I talking about? Leah now likes to toss her stuffed animals out of the crib, which is HILARIOUS to watch (Scott and I have watched her do this a couple times, and have had to stifle our laughter for fear of distracting Leah from the task at hand). When she does this varies; sometimes it's before the nap, sometimes it's after. Each time, it's almost as if she's telling them, "Quick! Go get Mommy and Daddy and tell them I'm up!" She'll drop the one animal, then stand on her tiptoes and peer over the edge of the crib. When the animal doesn't move, she'll then bend down, grab another, and chuck it over the side. I wonder if she thinks the first one is too afraid to go by himself, but maybe he'll move if he has a friend.

Oh, the goofball. How I love her! Speaking of Leah, looks like I should go. I've heard a few telltale thumps from upstairs, so I'm guessing a few "friends" have been sent on a Mommy-retrieval mission.

So Much for That Idea

A couple weeks ago, I decided that I was going to get up before Leah so that I could get some extra items accomplished. I really thought that I was going to maintain that habit, especially when I discovered just how much I COULD get done. Silly me. I should have known that two obstacles would arise: my love for the snooze button, and, of course, Leah.

The first few days, I did okay with this new goal. I'd get up when my alarm went off, or at least only hit the snooze button once. But then, my (morning) nature kicked in. Over the course of the next few days, hitting the sb once grew to hitting it two or three times. (This has always been a bad habit of mine. I remember mornings in college when my girlfriends next door would complain about my alarm going off again and again and again. Scott also gives me a hard time about it, though on weekends now, I tend to turn it off, instead allowing Scott, Leah, or my own body clock to wake me.)

Then last week, Leah decided to wake up before 7. This is NOT typical for her. Usually, she'll sleep until 7:30 or 8. Well, I reasoned that since she was getting up around 7, there really wasn't much time for me to get anything done prior to her waking up, especially since I was shooting for a 6:15 wake-up time, but really getting up around 6:45 or 7 (basically when I heard the kiddo).

Despite my best attempt (well, maybe not my BEST), I think I'll just sleep until the kiddo wakes up. That might not guarantee me extra "me" time, but at least I'll be rested, which might in turn allow me to make better use of my limited time, right?

We Survived!

Yesterday, Leah and I accompanied my friends Alison and Mariah and their little ones into DC to check out the cherry blossoms. None of us had actually driven into the city before, so we were a bit unsure, but we reasoned we could do it. After all, so many of our other friends had done it before, why couldn't we?

We met up at Ali's so that we could load all the carseats into her SUV. That was our first victory of the day, especially since loading carseats is typically a job our husbands are responsible for. About an hour later (remember, we did have four little ones under the age of five to round up), we were on the road. Traffic was smooth (yeah!), and soon we arrived at Hains Point. Parking was a breeze (not like there were plenty of spots, but it didn't take long to find one), and soon we were slathering on sunblock, loading up strollers, and heading toward the Tidal Basin.

It took us about 30 minutes (maybe longer?) to get to the cherry blossoms, but we didn't mind; we were high on the fact that we had made it safe and sound thus far. Plus, it was a beautiful morning and the kids were content.

The blossoms were beautiful, though some were already turning green. We strolled along the TB for a bit, and then crossed over to the Washington Monument so that we could eat and the kids could run around. Carter, Moira, and Will took full advantage of the freedom to run and play; Leah, on the other hand, was content to sit on the blanket and scrounge for food. We did manage to walk around for a little bit, but the blanket (and food) kept calling her name.

Around noon, we decided to head back. The kids were getting tired (so were we, if truth be told), the sun was getting considerably warmer, and the crowds were getting bigger. We stopped off for pictures in the tulip garden and in front of the blossoms on the way back to the car, so it probably took us an hour to get there. By then, both of the girls had napped, Will was working hard NOT to fall asleep, and Carter-- the trooper-- was plugging along, despite being tired (that's a lot of walking for a four-and-a-half-year old).

The biggest challenge was finding our way OUT of DC since we couldn't leave the same way we entered. Thanks to Alison's driving and Mariah's navigation skills, though, we finally made it out, safe and sound. We felt so empowered by our trip that we're ready to take another one. Bring it on!

Will checks out his girls (Moira & Leah) while munching on crackers.

Moira was just itching to get out of her stroller.

Carter checks out the stump of a 90-year-old tree that had fallen during the 2010 blizzard.

Who's that pretty girl?

Mmmm, food. Why play when you can eat?

Picnicking

After the MOPS Easter egg hunt, Leah and I headed over to the Fantasy Playground for a birthday picnic with some friends from church. Though we didn't stay too long (Leah was way too interested in the pebbles), we were there long enough for Leah to spend some time with her friend Evie, one of the picnic honorees (along with her older sister Anna and older brother Joey), who also happens to be one of the six March babies.

Leah, my little Easter egg

Evie, who is five days older than Leah

Leah and Evie bonding over Goldfish.

Huntin' for Easter Eggs

Leah participated (if you can call it that) in two Easter egg hunts. The first was at our church the Saturday before Easter weekend. Like others her age, she wasn't exactly sure what to do; she'd find an egg, plop on her bottom, and then mouth the egg, oblivious to all the others around her. Scott and I tried cheering her on, but she was content with the one or two she had. We both then piled eggs in front of her, thinking that might give her an idea of what to do, but she was oblivious (or just didn't care). I think she had more fun figuring out the egg she was holding or pulling eggs out of her basket.

The second hunt was through MOPS. It was basically a repeat of the previous Saturday, though I think Leah was even MORE focused on opening the eggs. At one point, she managed to free a mini candy bar, and then proceeded to gum it. At one point, an older boy stopped by and gave Leah some more eggs, which I thought was really sweet and thoughtful, especially considering that Leah was clueless to this. All-in-all, I'm glad Leah had a chance to "participate". I know I enjoyed it!

The top set of photos are from the MOPS hunt; the others are from the one at church.

Leah and her friend Moira check out the goods.

Guess who needed a break after working so hard to find eggs?

Such intense focus.

"Look what I found!"

Her first Easter egg hunt. Notice the egg in her mouth.

Checking out the spoils.

Mmm, candy.