Who has the time?

I have been about this post for a while now, but this is the first time that I have been able to write for more than a minute at time…

Yes well I gave up writing that post too, so here is another.
Time
It is a man made phenomenon to measure time. To measure everything really, but that’s another post…
In this world we are limited by measurements, the main one seeming to be time.  
No one ever has enough time.
No one can ever fit into their days exactly what they think that they need to. And again we measure -what we need to do.
We live in a day when every hour counts, and now even more so, I feel the constraints that time limits me by.
As a mother and teacher my days are filled before I can think of them. I don’t like to be asked too often about my plans for the weekend, because then I have to think about how many hours are already used over those two measly days. How I am going to fit in everything that needs doing in the limited “time” I have?
My average day begins before seven, not too early I must admit. For the next hour I move at a heightened speed to organise myself and co. Co are not too cooperative in the morning, generally speaking. Between the three of them, at least one of them will cry, or sulk or sit sullenly in a half dressed state until grumpy Mum uses her grumpy Mum voice for the tenth time, only louder.
After drop off, making sure bus money is available, lunches slightly healthy, notes signed and kisses are blown and caught through the car window… I head to work.
Once at work I head to my office, inevitably being caught along the way for a quick chat, that steals my very limited organisational “time”.  

Once alone I open emails, close emails, check lessons, sigh and think about having a coffee, only to realise that I have given all of my change to the kids for the bus, then the bell goes.
Generally speaking the work day is quite a pleasant part of the day. Then there are meetings…

Kids catch the bus to my work and wait while the meetings finish, then I rush them to sports, scouts, dance; sometimes all at once. In between dropping one I will pick up some fruit for morning and the cakes for the class party I had forgotten about.
Getting home in time to put on dinner, but not bring in the washing as it has already gotten dark and the frost has set in, I remember that I didn’t buy potatoes. When I look in the freezer the chips are lying loose, having fallen out of their packet, mixing it up with a few stray peas. I leave them there and settle on pasta.  
Dinner is preparing, as homework is helping, as bath is filling, as dog is fed. “Can someone please take out the recycling?”
I remember I haven’t had a coffee since I’d left in the morning and half think about that, but I think too long and burn the garlic, so have to start again. Kids are arguing about some tv show, I ask again for someone to check the bath. Too late. Overflowed.

Grumpy Mum rears her head again.

Dinner cooked, kids are clean, well sort of. Stories read, time for bed. Not not for me… Not for them either they decide, as a slapstick performance of entrances and exits begins. Drinks and fruit and hot wheat bags… forgotten notes in bottom of school bags. A rotten banana too, but “I don’t like bananas” lays the blame on someone else. “Go to bed”. The mantra is said and heard with little effect.  
Eventually all is quiet. All except the cd player that has “somewhere over the rainbow” playing on repeat. It puts her to sleep…
I sit. Dishes lay dirty on sinks and tables. I sit. I catch my breath and think again of the coffee it is too late to have. I make a tea. Watch some TV.  
It is late. I get up to tidy the kitchen, put another load of washing on before bed, only to find a clean load waiting to be pegged out still in the machine… I stick it in the dryer, ignoring my environmental conscience.
I say goodnight to my dozing husband who has been up and down ladders all day, followed by coaching the junior football team, then home to eat and collapse, put on washing (that I will curse at and chuck in dryer), feed the neglected rabbit, invoice clients, tell kids to “Go to bed” alone and in unison with me…
In bed eventually. I lay awake wondering how I have let another day slip by. Wondering how I will ever have enough “time” to do it all tomorrow. My mind runs circles. I pick up my phone, check my emails and read the messages that I had ignored. “Damn!” I’d forgotten that meeting, I will have to cancel my chiro appointment. Oh well, I can wait…

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3 thoughts on “Who has the time?

  1. “We live in a day when every hour counts,” you said. Which is why my favorite quote is, “What we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” Because I can’t even count the time wasted on nothing-things. But I’m working on it. Working on trying to give time to my passions, since I spend so much time on doing for everyone but myself.

    • It’s a tough balance. Sometimes I feel selfish using time to make myself happy. Making time for your own happiness is vital- for sanity sake (everyones!) Thanks for reading and taking the time to reply.

      • Exactly. I’m no good to anyone if I don’t take care of me.
        You’re very welcome, and thank you for sharing your own thoughts on my posts, as well! Have a great day!

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