My children and partner were already fastened in the vehicle, preparing for a pep rally for my kids’ swim team. I hesitated to pull the food from the oven until the last possible moment. As is customary, I was among the many parents who contribute food to these gatherings to satisfy our hungry young athletes. Additionally, I’m the designated individual from my household tasked with managing everything we need whenever we go out.
5:56 p.m. — Time to go.
I began the strategic process of loading myself with supplies. The overstuffed, monogrammed swim bag, emblazoned with navy and green, settled onto my left shoulder. Next, I turned off the oven, opened it, and carefully placed the serving spoon atop the aluminum foil covering the large tray of pasta. I slipped my hands into mismatched oven mitts and hefted the warming tray, deftly kicking the oven door shut with my right leg as if I were a trained dancer.
My partner, Mark, would have struggled with this. Fortunately, he left the side door ajar, allowing me to nudge it open with my foot. Just as I was about to exit, a pacifier caught my eye. That small piece of BPA-free plastic could be the deciding factor between a calm, sweet child or a cranky, screaming one, depending on how the night unfolds. We absolutely needed that pacifier.
All right, I can manage this.
As I balanced the tray with my right hand, I discarded the oven mitt from my left hand onto the floor, reaching for the pacifier. I extended my arm. Grasped it. And then, disaster struck. The tray tilted too far. Instinctively, my un-mitted left hand reached out to catch it, but then I realized — it had just emerged from the oven! My entire focus shifted to stabilizing the tray.
I can handle this!
With an awkward twist and bend of my wrist and elbow, I struggled to regain control, but the scorching metal edge of the pan brushed against my arm. Instinctively, I screamed from the intense pain and dropped the entire dish onto the floor.
Did that really just happen?
I stood in shock for a moment, staring at the noodles scattered at my feet, before I let the swim bag fall to my side, feeling utterly defeated. In a fit of frustration, I sent the pacifier flying into the noodles. For added drama, I reached down, picked up the fallen serving spoon, and hurled it out the open door with a roar of exasperation. (I may have also muttered a curse word.)
Noticing the noodles in the doorway and the spoon soaring across the carport, Mark exited the vehicle, approached me with a blank expression, and asked, “Why were you trying to carry so much?”
After some cleanup, we finally arrived at the pool. As the kids dined, I shared my noodle fiasco and the burn on my arm with a neighbor. During our conversation, she revealed the heavy burden of a new diagnosis — one that would alter her life and family permanently. “I have so much on my plate right now; I just can’t see how I’m going to manage it all.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Mark’s question replayed in my head, “Why were you trying to carry so much?”
Friend, it’s time to set something down.
Ladies, I must ask: When did we become so overloaded? How did we arrive at this point? Who taught us that we should bear more than we can handle? I observe others juggling numerous responsibilities, and it seems we are all busy and overcommitted. Each one of us tries to do it all or feels guilty when we fall short. Throughout my motherhood journey, I’ve heard the persistent drumbeat of societal expectations, urging me to take on more.
Yet, when I pause and listen closely, I hear a different sound — a soft, clear voice urging me to let go.
In this stage of motherhood, I possess the strength and resilience to manage my children and the myriad responsibilities that come with raising a family. However, I refuse to let excessive busyness and unnecessary obligations overshadow the joy I wish to embrace. I must be intentional when creating my to-do lists so that I don’t inadvertently sacrifice contentment, peace, or kindness in my rush out the door.
We all carry unique burdens, though we may not always express them. At times, our arms are too full, and we must carry what we are given. However, this is not a sustainable practice.
This year, I am making a conscious choice. I will carry only what is essential, what is needed, and what brings me joy. I will not allow myself to be so overloaded that I lie awake at night, anxious, or wake up feeling overwhelmed. Life has enough challenges of its own. For now, I will focus on holding my children’s hands and nurturing my relationship with Mark.
So if you see me putting something down, now you understand why. And I invite you to join me. We simply cannot carry it all. For further insights, you can explore this resource on intrauterine insemination, and discover helpful information on home insemination kits.
In summary, it is crucial for us to evaluate what we carry in our lives and make choices that prioritize our well-being. Letting go of unnecessary burdens can lead to greater peace and fulfillment in our daily lives.