Windows of opportunity

I wanted to clean the kitchen this morning. It had been dirty and yucky far too long, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I put on some favorite music, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, made sure the kids were happily playing with toys, then prepared to go to work. Before I even got started, Beth was crying; Noah had hit her on the head with a toy. Great.

I ran upstairs to hold and comfort my daughter. We sat and rocked on the floor until her cries faded to sniffles. I prepared to stand up and begin my intended chores, but before I could, she grabbed a board book and pushed it into my hands. Reluctantly, I sat down to flip through the pages with her. It was a short book; we flipped through and looked at the colorful pictures of animals several times. The penguin page was her favorite. After a few minutes, I tried to stand up again, but she stubbornly insisted that we read the book again. We looked at the book for a long time, and she finally got off of my lap.

By then, I had remembered a dish I needed to start in the crockpot for dinner. By the time that was done, it was time to get dressed and change diapers and take a shower. And my daughter continued to clamor for attention. My window of opportunity was gone. The kitchen remained a mess for most of the day.

I often tell myself that I can have it all: a clean house, happy children with ample attention from both parents, perfectly balanced meals, and time for myself to boot. But the truth is, I can't do it, at least not without a huge effort of organization and time management on my part. Which is not something I'm terrific at. So unless I fight against my personality and make myself adhere to some crazy schedule that starts at 6:00 a.m. and ends with a strict 10:00 bedtime, "having it all" isn't going to happen.

Maybe it would be easier to take the "window of opportunity" viewpoint, and willingly recognize that opportunities often have a cost. If you choose to do one thing, you automatically exclude another one. This morning, I had hoped for the opportunity to deal my messy kitchen. The cost of having fussy kids while I cleaned was too great, so instead, I took the opportunity to read to my daughter, and give her some much-needed extra love and attention. And, in the end, my day balanced out: later on, I had another opportunity to clean, and it worked out so much better for me and my little ones. By taking advantage of the windows of opportunity that present themselves, the important things usually work themselves out. Everything usually doesn't get done, that's true, but it seems better than trying to force a schedule upon oneself.