Rethinking Obstacles and Catching Curveballs with Joy
January 14, 2025
Two weeks later and I’m finally getting around to wishing you a happy new year. I hope it’s been good so far. If you’re into resolutions, how’s it going? I’ve always been a sucker for them and dreaming up big goals and writing all of the things down in a cute little planner because, if you write it down, it’s way more likely to happen, right?
Right…
My new year started out bursting with good intentions. I whipped up a few SMART goals for my business, journaled about it, drafted up some plans, and felt really, really optimistic about my determination to accomplish a lot this year.
As you’re aware, the first of the month was on a Wednesday, and then three of my four kids went back to school on Thursday and Friday after enjoying a cozy and wonderful two weeks at home for Christmas break. I spent those two days prepping for the upcoming week, making to-do lists and vision boards and organizing my house and all that fancy I’m-so-on-top-of-my-life stuff. It. Felt. Awesome. I was entirely ready for Monday to roll around and begin my first full work week of the year. The productivity was going to be epic. My to-do list, destroyed!
And then, on Sunday evening, snow began to fall. It hadn’t snowed but three flakes since we moved to Maryland last summer. Rightfully so, the kids grew giddy, pushing their squishy faces against the recently-polished windows to witness the magic outside. I, on the other hand, grew more and more concerned about my county’s reaction to this weather. The snow fell faster. The flakes grew bigger. The snowy magic quickly turned to an aggressive blizzard and, two hours later, a chirp on my phone informed me that school was canceled tomorrow.
I won’t spell it out because my mom reads these things, but a four-letter expletive slipped softly from my mouth. Why, God, why!?!?
Here’s the part where I do what all mothers do before complaining about their kids. I love my kids. Immensely. I enjoy so very many, many things about being a mom, and I am wholeheartedly aware of the privilege it is to raise children. It’s an incredible blessing and one that I don’t take for granted. Believe me, I know. And, believe me, this “obstacle” I’m about to describe is trivial compared to pretty much every other curveball you and I have ever endured. This is petty, and I get it.
But…
But kids, particularly those under the age of – oh, let’s say ten – are expert productivity-killers.They’re just naturally skilled at this - what a gift! I can barely use the bathroom without a jelly-faced toddler head poking through the door asking why, mommy, why can I see the sun AND the moon at the same time? So, if using the bathroom is something that rarely comes without interruptions, you can imagine what sitting down at my desk to get some work done must look like.
Answer: NOT PRODUCTIVE.
There must be an alarm that goes off in young kids’ heads when they see an adult sit down in a chair. Or maybe it goes off when they telepathically hear their mom think to herself, “I should try to squeeze in some work while the kids are playing peacefully in the playroom.” Or, perhaps the alarm blares when dad goes upstairs to sit on the toil… oh, wait. No. No, that never happens. Dads get to poop and scroll their phones in peace.
All kidding aside, no work was accomplished on Monday. My work tasks were squandered by my responsibilities to make snacks and take out the Hot Wheels cars and fill up water bottles and bundle everyone up in warm clothes to go play in the snow and change diapers and prep lunch and scoop chewed up crayons from my baby’s mouth and… you get the point. Being a parent is a lot of work. Joyful, difficult, beautiful, exhausting, life-changing work.
And it leaves very little time for much else.
Surely, though, Tuesday would be better. Tuesday would be the day that’d kick off my year of productivity. My ambition can wait one more day, right!?
If I still lived in the midwest, I’d be telling an entirely different story. My kids would’ve gone to school on Tuesday. Shoot, they probably would’ve gone to school Monday. Midwesterners are savages when it comes to snow, and we’re proud of it. But I no longer live in the midwest. I live in Maryland, and even the slightest dusting is enough to send east coasters into a panic. I don’t blame them, though. It rarely snows out here so, I can understand the caution.
In case it’s not clear yet, Tuesday was also a snow day. And Wednesday was, too. Yes, three snow days in a row, followed by two-hour delayed starts on Thursday and Friday. My week of fruitful work was demolished, my to-do list left untouched.
If this all sounds dramatic to you, you’re definitely right. I am being dramatic. Not working for an entire week probably sounds heavenly to most people. But with two weeks of Christmas break having just ended, followed by yet another week of snow days, I was mentally and physically desperate for some uninterrupted work time, and my admittedly selfish disappointment felt reasonable… at the time.
Looking back, though, I can see the lesson that was to be gleaned from all this, the subtle reminder from God that – no matter how well I plan or dream or prepare for my life or even just a silly little week – I am not in control. Shit happens. Things come up. Hurdles will arise and throw you off course. But the only thing you do have control over, the only thing that is entirely yours to drive, is how you respond to the shit.
So I’m making that my driving force in the new year. Not my work or my health or in checking things off a to-do list so I can feel good about myself and my business. It’s in my response to the punches, both big and small, that will determine the productivity, fulfillment, and enjoyment of my life. If I can get better at responding better (because, clearly, I’m not an expert yet), I’ve gotta believe the rest of the stuff will fall into place when the time is right.
Happy new year, friends. May we all roll a little more joyfully with the punches and, if an opportunity to play in the snow should ever present itself, may we always choose to put on our boots and play. The other stuff can wait.
Cheers,
Shelby