dropping the ball

Life seems to be somewhat of a circus act these days, and not in that way where we are a traveling spectacle to behold.  Just another person with a heaping helpful of life.  And in the case that you would be secretly hiding within the walls of my house, well then it might be somewhat of the aforementioned spectacle; your every day game of Beat the Clock where I'm a professional in ninja rolls and tip-toe running through the house to check things off the list before the baby realizes I am gone.

Life is a juggling act at this moment in time, and probably for the next 18 years at the very least.  I have a fundamental need within my personality to pile more than I could possibly ever handle onto my already full plate and complete it all.  This leaves me with a very real struggle for failure when I suddenly decide I should begin sewing home decor, I should try every recipe in the newest Food Network magazine, learn that new hairstyle I just saw on Pinterest, while having a party that would put Martha Stewart to shame, oh, and enjoy every last second with my children because have we talked about what a jerk time is?

Here's the thing: I'm no better at juggling the things in my life than I am juggling balls, and most of the time, I think it would even be easier to master the circus act than it is to master life.  But I also know that dropping the ball for various things in life should mean nothing to me as I am not performing for an audience.  It's a work in progress to train my mind to let the less important balls drop - the ones I won't remember or care about - the ones I want to balance are the ones that will forever hold places in my heart.  Watching kiddos grow up, being a present part of their world.  I'd rather drop the the twelve other balls in order to swoon over the long-lashed sleeping babe in my lap, than put the baby down in an attempt to continue juggling in an effort that I can almost guarantee will not be successful no matter the productivity that happens.

Adding a third baby has been an adjustment of sorts - almost like someone has stood in front of me with a bucket of balls, chucking them one after another, rapid fire.  And to be honest, going from two to three has been far easier than it was one to two for us.  But the laundry has suddenly quadrupled, I am re-learning how to do all tasks with one hand, and I am late for absolutely everything unless I am making a mad dash to Target for a vacation sans kiddos.  Funny how that works out.

Last week, a group of friends went for near midnight run to Sonic and then camped out on a couch in comfy clothes with junk food, sweet friends, and Bachelor drama.  That night, I made a choice to drop the laundry ball and the lofty goal of organizing storage containers ball, and refill my sanity meter.  I am blessed to be walking through this season of life with amazing friends that know the art of juggling well.

And all of these things I am juggling?  To stop and think of the activities we are doing, the reasons we are busy, and the things that feel like a mathematical equation to fit into my already crammed planner - blessings.  More blessings than I can even juggle, and for that, I am ever so thankful.