Today, on perfectly fine Sunday, I did nothing…and it was everything.
Ok, so let me preface this by saying that my definition of “nothing” is very subjective. It has dramatically changed from my “nothing” Sundays in my early 20’s, which sometimes would consist of nursing a hangover all day on the couch and watching re-run marathons of Sex in the City or Friends. Once I hit my mid 20’s, weekends became the most productive and enjoyable times of the week. One of the many reasons I married my husband is because we match each other’s sense of adventure and “carpe-diem” attitude. We’ve never been the type to sleep in past 8 or 9 AM on the weekends, (not like there’s anything wrong with those who do, it just doesn’t come naturally for us). Our vacations usually include an itinerary or checklist, even if it’s supposed to be a beach-bumming type of trip. Having a child hasn’t really changed much. Our weekends as a family are usually somewhat chaotic, usually spent completing to-do lists, going to social gatherings or traveling. Last weekend, we made a lovely pilgrimage to NYC to give Chase some quality time with his grandparents only to spend a grueling 7 hours in I-95 traffic on our way back to DC. No rest for the weary.
Yesterday we held our 4th annual pool party. It was great and friends came to enjoy the last splash of the summer. Of course, that meant the two of us spending Friday night and Saturday morning running around prepping and cooking. By the end of the night, when we were cleaning up the disaster of a kitchen we had made, my back and belly started to ache and I could tell my ankles were swollen. My body was reminding me that at 33 wks pregnant, I should probably call it quits…cleaning would have to wait until tomorrow.
So today we woke up with every intention of going to witness the great Rev. Al Sharpton preach at our church (Alfred Street Baptist), grab some lunch and maybe run some errands. This would mean rushing to get Chase ready, probably being 20 minutes late, and the ushers telling us we need to sit in the overflow section. We were both feeling like zombies, so we agreed to scratch all of those plans. We streamed the church service online as we ate our breakfast. I stayed in my pajamas until noon. We took our time slowly putting the kitchen back to normal array. We took a nap when Chase did. We went swimming (I usually don’t partake, but decided to take a dip today). Hubby washed the car, I drank a Mocktail (Karma Sucra flavor, to be precise) to partially-satisfy my craving for wine. Then we finished the day eating fish tacos and rice from a local spot down the street. How uneventful right? What’s the big deal?
There were many times today that I looked at the clock and considered running a quick errand… but then didn’t. Instead, I watched Chase play with a swiffer, introduced him to the concept of paddling in the pool and played with the dogs. Hubby and I spent the entire day together, which is rare, as we are usually tag-teaming with Chase to relieve the other parent for some “me-time”. It dawned on me that these “nothing”, no-agenda recovery days are worth everything. It allowed me to be present, both physically and mentally. I seized the day as it came without draining myself in the process. I got the most (rest) out of each hour without getting anything tangible done (except for this rambling blogpost). I realized that in a few short weeks, our days of “nothing” will be non-existent and we’ll be back to being unpredictably chaotic with a newborn AND a toddler. So for now, I’m going to schedule as many “nothing” days I can while it’s possible. And now I will end my nothing Sunday with the Game of Thrones finale. Dracarys.