I’m going to keep doing the morning pages because they work for me and I’m going to keep the concept of the artist’s date, but change it ever so slightly. It won’t necessarily require that I go somewhere (which is challenging in and of itself) nor that I do it alone, but it does require that I do it for me – just for me and without feeling guilty about it.
I’m acknowledging that I’m burnt out and while I have an agenda in mind, I’m going to set it aside. I could power through the rest of my science plans and easily cover what I think I should before fall, but I’m not going to.
I’m not going to feel guilty about this.
I’m taking the week off of homeschooling and maybe the next. I’m calling it our Summer Vacation (with capital letters) and I’m not going to feel guilty about it. Yes, there’s still that research paper for Mr. J to finish and we’re still due for a bunch of science-y stuff including some books that I had to return to the library, but we’ll roll with it. This is nothing that can’t be adjusted or accounted for. It’s not the end of the world.
We can roll with the punches.
This week (or more) break is my artist’s date. It’s the thing I’m doing just for me and I’m not going to feel guilty about it.
I will send my children out in the yard to play the moment their bright eyes open and will encourage them to continue playing for the rest of the day. There will be picnics in the yard so that there’s less food on the floor for me to clean up. I may even consider paper plates (shocker!) so that I don’t have to do as many dishes. I will stick to my menu plan for this week because I already bought the food, but next week I may not cook at all. I may buy pre-packaged convenience foods or we may eat only sandwiches…on paper plates. I’m going to be contributing to climate change, I’m sure, but it’s just for two weeks.
I will think about taking my kids to go swimming at the Y or at the wading pool, but in a non-guilt inducing way. If we make it there, great. If we don’t, I’ll remember that I am not ruining their childhood by not going.
I will work on a few paper pieced blocks, or not. I will read the books on my nightstand, or not. I might even make strawberry margaritas, take my camping chair out into the yard, put my feet in the sandbox, and pretend I’m on an island instead of sitting under a maple tree, ten blocks away from oodles of traffic, on a city lot, in Wisconsin. Or not.
I’m going to let go and enjoy the summer because it’s almost August and it won’t be long before we’ll need a jacket to go outside and I’ll have to turn on the furnace to keep my teeth from chattering.
I’m doing it all for me because I never do stuff for me.
And it’s not the end of the world.