Saturday was “Family Yard Day” at my house. Everyone (me, my husband and our nearly 2-year-old) is to work in the backyard for a few hours. Raking, spreading mulch, pulling weeds, cutting down overgrown bushes. You know what it’s like — not necessarily fun, but necessary. We decided to put it on the calendar and make an official “day” out of it.
Saturday morning arrives, Family Yard Day is to begin — after breakfast and coffee, of course. We look outside; it’s raining. Pouring, actually. HMM. I let my husband sleep in, thinking that we can’t possibly work in the yard when it’s raining.
He eventually gets up, eats an English muffin and drinks his cup of coffee, but it’s still raining outside. After awhile, however, it finally stops. Decision time. Do we still go out there? We’re laying on the sofas, covered with afghans, reading books and magazines, listening to music. We’ve moved on to our second (maybe third) cup of Joe. Toddler Boy is quietly playing with his cars in the living room while we relax. We can’t possibly go outside to work now!
All I keep thinking is that I want to do nothing. I want to do nothing. Together. As a family. Does that even make sense? I want a day where we can just be. No work, no school, no errands, no commitments, no obligations. Just be.
We decide that it is just too muddy outside to effectively commit to Family Yard Day, so we spend a few quality hours together cleaning out a room in the house. Purging possessions is good. Makes you feel good, which is all I was looking for in the day anyway.
I’m sure we’ll recommit to Family Yard Day, probably this Saturday — hey, I think the weather report calls for rain.
