By: Jamie Collins
A few weeks ago, during a whirlwind of baking and cooking, my oven finally gave up. With a fresh batch of zucchini bread batter ready to go, I stood there, wide-eyed and stressed, feeling a vein throb in my temple. Flour dusted my hair, and batter splattered across my clothes as I exchanged a few choice words with my broken oven.
The next day, the repair technicians arrived and informed me that the issue was with the central circuit board. Unfortunately, the manufacturer no longer produced the necessary parts for repair. They offered to send the circuit board for repair at a steep cost or suggested a full oven replacement. Naturally, I opted for the repair, albeit begrudgingly.
As they left, I learned that I would be without an oven—and stovetop—for two weeks. Great. The repairman gave me a sheepish grin and said there must be plenty of takeout options available. He hurried off, glancing at that vein in my temple that was beginning to take on a life of its own.
No stove or oven for two weeks? Oh boy. I rummaged through the freezer and found some frozen corn dogs and dinosaur-shaped nuggets, along with microwaveable veggies to tide us over.
I wish I could share a heroic tale of how I ingeniously created a makeshift stovetop out of household items or whipped up delightful finger foods for the kids. But let’s be real: what actually happened was a good deal of takeout and plenty of microwave dinners. And you know what? I actually loved it. I embraced my microwave like an old friend.
Since becoming a parent, I’ve felt an immense pressure to provide healthy, well-balanced meals for my family. My kids have developed a taste for fresh fruits and veggies, and I’ve taken pride in baking wholesome treats. But in the past few weeks, without the constant demands of meal prep, I’ve realized something profound: I was far too busy to notice how overwhelmed I had become.
One evening, after a late shift at work, a dear colleague of mine, Sarah, noticed my exhaustion and said, “You have to let it go. Just let it go.” I remember looking at her, bewildered, thinking how could I possibly do that? But now, in retrospect, I understand her message.
The breakdown of my oven provided me with a much-needed pause. The time I gained from not having to cook has given me the freedom to relax, to enjoy a cup of coffee while watching HGTV, or simply to reconnect with friends. Those extra hours have alleviated stress, leaving me less irritable and more energized. It turns out that meal preparation, which I once thought of as a simple task, was actually weighing me down.
This experience has led me to consider what else in my life feels overwhelming. Each responsibility we take on can seem manageable at first, but before long, it often leads to stress and fatigue. We forget to acknowledge our limits, stretching ourselves too thin in the process.
It’s time to grant ourselves a break. What we accomplish is enough, and what we do not achieve is also acceptable. Focus on the things that truly matter, and when you find yourself spread too thin, it’s okay to step back. There’s no honor in being perpetually busy; instead, there’s value in dedicating time and attention to what really counts. We must learn to appreciate moments of calm amidst the chaos.
Let’s embrace those broken ovens and microwaves now and then. They remind us that life doesn’t always have to be about constant busyness; sometimes, it’s the pause that allows us to truly thrive.
If you’re interested in further exploring how to navigate the challenges of parenthood, check out our related post here. And if you’re considering at-home insemination options, consider visiting Make A Mom for reliable syringe kits. For more information on genetics and IVF, refer to this helpful resource.
In summary, let’s redefine our relationship with busyness. Allow yourself to breathe, to recharge, and to prioritize the moments that truly matter.