It would be a perfect day!

First, we would assemble the new pergola—we had purchased a kit that came with very detailed instructions. Once assembled, we would take a break to attend a friend’s birthday party. Return home … add the second coat of paint … spread fertilizer on the lawn … and while the paint was drying, fire up the BBQ grill and cook dinner. Dinner would be done right at the same time that the paint on the pergola had dried, and we would sit down under our new creation and enjoy our meal.

What could be better?

At least I thought it would be a perfect day. What could go wrong? We would finish a project around the house, spend some time with good friends, and enjoy a meal together. And I had the perfect plan to accomplish just that. While explaining my plan to my husband over coffee that morning, he had a different idea of how he wanted to spend his day.

And so it has gone on for years—the scenario playing itself out on repeat.

When the kids were home, I used to say that I lived my life while they were at school. It wasn’t unusual for me to change clothes three times a day. One outfit for “mom” duties: carpool, cafeteria monitor, field trip chaperone. The next outfit for house projects, which included jeans that could hold my tool belt securely and a long-sleeved shirt to protect my shoulders and arms from the sun. This would be followed by climbing into an outfit that might range from business casual to cocktail dress for the community board meeting or fundraiser.

For years, the neighbors must have thought I was crazy, or at least had a good laugh watching me spinning around at supersonic speed. It wasn’t uncommon to see me in the yard wielding tools and using heavy equipment, and then minutes later dashing out the door wearing a fancy dress and high heels.

Only recently have I tried to re-engage my husband to my side of the fence. After my first attempt, his response was, “We can’t do everything,” which I heard as he would do nothing. So off I stomped, attempting to complete my list by myself. This has gone on for several weeks now. Last week, after sharing my list yet again, and he wanting nothing to do with it, I tore up the list and raised the white flag.

Have you ever felt like forces were conspiring against you? There was a message you needed to hear, even if you didn’t want to? I‘ve been known to ignore that little voice, and forge ahead no matter what. Well, for whatever reason, on that day I just didn’t have it in me. I grabbed a book and went to sit outside under the now broken pergola to read. I opened the book to my bookmark, and the very first sentence leapt out to me: “It is impossible to do everything people want you to do.”

It was finally sinking in, as I sat under my incomplete pergola, surrounded by an array of other half-finished projects. I got the message.

And on that day, I learned another lesson.  My idea of having all the time to do the things I want to do because the kids are no longer in the house has been reduced to … you can’t do everything.