Deep Sunday: Permission to Take a Day Off

Friday morning I knew I was just not right. The evidence was right there – although I ignored it for a while.

Most Friday mornings I go into Tuckshop at school and lend a hand. It is a busy place on Fridays but it is also a great group of ladies and a fun place to spend a couple of hours. I usually count money, so as orders arrive in brown paper bags, I tip out the money, check the order makes sense and the prices are correct, then count the money to make sure it matches the total and tape any change on the front of the bag to go back to the child. Sounds like lots of steps when I write it out but really it is pretty straight forward, and I’ve been doing it almost every week for a few years now.

But last Friday, my brain just was not working. I was adding things up wrong and then wondering why the money didn’t match the total on the bag? I was counting $5 notes as $10 notes and vice versa – and again wondering why the numbers didn’t match? Even when I started using the calculator on my phone – for basic addition – gasp! – I still couldn’t seem to get my head around the addition. Sigh.

By Saturday morning, it was obvious I was sick. Just a head cold – nothing serious – but enough for me to be miserable. Sore throat. Runny nose. Headache. Blah!

So I stopped.

I cancelled all the jobs I had in my head to do – washing, cleaning, crafting, dinner prep, shopping with Little Miss for fun stuff – I just mentally cancelled the lot.

I sat on the couch in my fluffy robe and PJs with a box of tissues at my elbow and every ‘iDevice’ I own, and I stayed there pretty much all day. I read random websites. I watched an episode of Anzac Girls on iView. I played silly computer games with bubbles and cooking and doodles and farm animals galore. I spent lots of time on Pinterest!

But it was an unusual day for me.

I rarely give myself permission to totally let go of all the plans and just do nothing.

If it had been a week day, I would have expected myself to take the kids to school and pick them up and prepare meals for our family.

Yes, I know someone else could do these things but I expect myself to do them – even when I’m sick.

But I’m coming to realise that it is OK to give myself permission to NOT do everything.

I can let myself ask for help. I can let someone else look after the kids and cook the dinner and unpack the dishwasher.

We live in a world where we expect so much of ourselves as women and mothers and homemakers, and we achieve amazing things.

It can seem like everyone else is doing more than we are, and we can feel like we should be doing more and don’t have time to stop.

But I’m starting to tell myself to slow down. To enjoy more. To let go of some things and focus on the best of my world.

I’m giving myself permission to NOT do it all.

How about you?