try and keep up

How is it that now that the kids are mostly grown I’m busier than ever? Many days, I feel like my head is about to spin right off my neck, what with all my projects and lists and such. It’s weird.

This ramped-up activity is in stark contrast to how I felt when the kids were little: BORED OUT OF MY MIND. With littles to tend — nursings and naps, diaper changes and cleaning-up-afters — life slowed to a painstaking crawl. Killing time was my biggest hobby.

No longer! Now I feel like I’m constantly pushing myself to go, go, go. Go running. Make breakfast. Smack out some meals. Bake bread. Text a friend. Research this. Write about that. Make cheese. Edit videos. Walk with a friend. Assign chores. Send emails. Host. Read a book. Order a wedding gift. Buy gas. Sign up for a class. Watch a movie. Write queries. Hike. Process strawberries. Attend a play. Talk with my husband. Do laundry. Pull a bakery shift. Go see my mom. Go to meetings. Think about auditioning for a play. Chat with my kids. Water plants. Craft a menu. Keep lists. SLEEP.

Some days I feel like there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to do all the things I want to do — something I’ve never felt before — and I’ve actually been fantasizing about hiring people to help with my projects. It’s like I’ve outgrown my body. I need to divide into two of me, or grow an extra set of arms or something. 

I miss my relaxed afternoons spent writing meandering blog posts. The whole days puttering in the kitchen with a complicated recipe. Hours spent hiding in the bedroom talking to a girlfriend on the phone. Dozing off on the couch while the kids had rest time. I still have these unpressured moments (right now I’m sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket), but they are less frequent and they don’t last as long. (Case in point: in just a few minutes I need to hop up to roast the supper veggies, have a sit-down with my mom, and then zip into town to buy cleats before going to Ultimate, after which I’ll hustle back home for a quick supper and shower before hopping into bed and getting up at 4am to go bake, pant-pant.)

It’s all good, mind you, but this driven frenzy surprises me a little. For the last 23 years, I haven’t really known myself without children, so the bigness of me is a little startling. 

Me to myself: Oh, hello there. It’s YOU. 
Myself to me: Yup! Try and keep up.


Photos from an evening at the Silk Moth Stage where we saw Artemisia’s Intent. The story and the acting (oh, the acting!) took my breath away. There’s one more weekend to see the show.
Get your tickets here.

This same time, years previous: the butter conundrum, sugar-crusted popovers, the quotidian (5.31.21), gluten-free bread, period, facts, a few fun things, butter chicken, an evening together, in her element, the race we saw, spicy cabbage, showtime!, down to the river to chill.


  • DB Stewart

    I am surprised you didn’t realize the “bigness” of you. I’ve been reading your warm and entertaining posts for about a year now and I honestly wondered if you weren’t two people.

  • Mavis

    I’m beginning to wonder if we are in fact busier and have more projects on our list to check off, or if it’s that we’re actually slowing slow and we just don’t know it.
    Getting old is weird.

Leave a Comment