When I took my New Year's morning earlier this month, I thought about what I wanted to be more purposeful about this year. I'm not much for resolutions, but wanting to capitalize on my own life ... yes, I would like to pursue that.
I came up with three things I wanted to give specific effort to. Regular exercise, reading more books aloud to the children, and ... gulp ... actual family breakfasts' during the school week.
Exercise. One of those things I'm always glad I do ... once it is over. I'm averaging four times a week for about 40 minutes on the treadmill. This is a good start, but far from becoming habit. Blah. Must keep going.
Reading. I often am rushing to get the children into bed so the quiet part of the evening can begin. Storytime has become a casualty of this pursuit, which is horrible given my near desperate and personal love for literature. My father's old third grade copy of Clarence Goes to Town (passed on to me when I graduated and set off to teach my own third grade class) has come to the rescue, and this part of our day is quickly becoming an easy habit. Hurrah!
Breakfast. This past year we established Sunday dinners and it has proven to be the highlight of our week. The food? Yes, it's wonderful. But combine it with time together and it becomes a rich experience. So, enter breakfast. It's always been slapdash during the week. Oatmeal, muffins, pancakes or eggs, all nice enough, but pretty much tossed at the kids to eat at the counter while Pops and I scurried around with our own agendas.
We've now done two weeks of breakfast together. Sit-down style at an actual table, eating with each other. Yes, I get up a little earlier than I used to. Yes, I plan it out a bit more than before. However, our mornings are so ... pleasant! It's not yet routine, but I think it just might become so.
Do you ever feel like me? Realizing there is just so much in your own life to participate in that you don't want to pass you by? My days are full of life's imperfections, but still, such opportunity they hold.