Monday, February 24, 2014

The Decider

This Saturday, it started to happen again. Any ideas I had about a schedule for the day began to get entirely hijacked. Around 11:00 a.m., I hadn't yet done much of anything except for try to figure out how we'd spend the day. Hubby had made a decision to do yard work, so that's what he did. I was navigating play date possibilities and competing schedules, none of which coincided with what I wanted to do for the day. As a result, I found myself frustrated and in tears (again! twice in one week!) on my bed.

And then it hit me: I can just decide.

So I got up, went back outside, sat on the bench and started putting on my shoes. "I'm going to the tide pools," I said. "I would love it someone wants to come with me. Oh, and anyone who stays home with Daddy won't be playing video games because it's a beautiful day. It's not a day for gaming."

Guess what? Both kids wanted to go. It took us a while to get out the door, but they were eager and never complained. We had a wonderful time, and I felt in control of myself as a person and of my parenting. Sometimes, in my effort to make my kids happy, I just offer too many choices. Perhaps those choices are not always good for them or for me. Sometimes, I just need to decide.

Below: a "gumboot chiten," sometimes known as the "wandering meatloaf"

















Below: Beautiful purple sea urchins!
















Below: a very large sea anemone all closed up (SO soft!)

















Below: Hello, hermit crab!







4 comments:

Bardiac said...

That sounds great! I love tide pools!

Jodi A. Campbell said...

That sounds like a much better day than a breakdown. Good for you for taking control and stopping it before you got too overwhelmed!

Fie upon this quiet life! said...

Ahhh... I wish I were near tide pools! That sounds relaxing and blissful after the overwhelming week you had!

Rebecca said...

What a great story! I wish my kids were as willing to follow me out the door, but most of the time they are happy to stay put. Love the photos, too . . . .