Nothing From Nothing Leaves Something

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

A funny thing happened on the way back from the holidays … 

Actually, it’s not funny at all. Our flight out of Toronto got canceled Monday. (Thanks, Blizzard ’10.) And we are unable to get rebooked on anything before Thursday. 

So, we’re “stuck” here in TO for a few days longer than planned. I say “stuck” because we’re not stranded in some cold corner of the airport, sucking back Diet Cokes and using T-shirts as diapers for the wee one. Nor are we sequestered in a this is the best we can do, ma’am-type hotel room near the airport with a phone glued to my ear and my fingers crossed that we’ll get on that overbooked flight.

We’re at my older sister’s home–warm, fed, happy. Playing charades, Taboo, cards, and watching DVDs once the young man heads off to night-night land. Saying you’re stuck in a place like this doesn’t make any kind of sense. Maybe we’ll call it delayed.

It’s been a solid good time here, seeing my folks, my siblings, brothers-in-law, nieces. It’s also been wonderful that my parents, who live in Florida, are able to hang out and soak up the sweetness that is their grandson QB.

Delightful. Truly.

Right … so why am I feeling antsy? Why am I not taking a nap like my husband or my son or the other family members who are in full chill mode? Why am I not brushing up on my French like my Dad (yes, he’s reading the back of a chip bag, but they are some really interesting-tasting chips and there’s a long write-up about them on said bag.)?

Is it the Mom Thing? You know, that thing … that pull, that push, that itch to just keep doing? There’s so much on the typical parent’s plate, so much scheduled and needed to keep the boat afloat that when the rare moment pops up where we can pause—and legitimately so, not the one glass of wine toss-back or extra minute on an already snappy shower—we don’t know how to treat it properly.

And let’s not even get into the failed practice of multi-tasking that we all embark upon knowing that it doesn’t really work. Like this morning when I tried to scan Twitter and click on teeny-tiny link on my iPod while toasting a bagel, filling a green sippy cup with water and singing I Have a Little Frog to my son sitting in a high chair.

Of course, the bagel ended up buttered side down on the kitchen floor. I probably accidentally tweeted something resembling this—>jkllkjl%. And my iPod may forever smell like banana. As I said … doesn’t work. I know better.

A little later in the morning, on my way into the shower, I got a chance to loop back around on that link from Twitter. And I’m glad that I did. It’s a post from one of our faves, Mom-101, about the same thing I’m talking about now: mothers trying to do nothing and failing at it, miserably.

 Is it something about our brand of mom genes that makes nothing so hard to pull off? Or is there something that kicks in when we parents get a tad older, where we can function sans To-Do list? What about you—does nothing come easy?

1 Comment
  • 1

    I can not do “nothing.” I don’t relax well, that is, sit down. I am always going, going and if I’m not, I get antsy and crazy. I’m not saying that this is a good thing….