Well, Buttercup, school is back in session. I hear the kids in the morning leaving with there parents. In the evening I hear the bus dropping the kids off. I miss those times with both Charlie and Suzzane.
As you know my children aren’t little anymore. In fact, Charlie grown and Suzzane is in Heaven. Charlie is certainly not packing a little backpack and heading off to elementary school anymore. But that doesn’t mean I don’t notice the families around me.
I live in an apartment complex, and lately I’ve been watching parents getting their children ready for school in the mornings. And I keep hearing the same things. “Get your backpack.”
“Do you have your shoes?” “Where are my keys?” “Come on, we’re going to be late!” And I get it. I’ve been there. I’ve done it. I’ve lived through the mornings when everybody is rushing around trying to find the one thing somebody forgot.
And that’s why I want to share something that might sound ridiculously simple: Take Ten Minutes the Night Before. Ten minutes. Not twenty minutes or a hour. Just ten minutes will make a different and that’s all I’m talking about.
Before everybody goes to bed, take a few minutes to look at tomorrow. Is the backpack ready? Are the shoes by the door? Are the keys where they’re supposed to be? Does your child need something special for school tomorrow?
Is there a permission slip that needs to go into the backpack? Is there something that needs to be packed for lunch? Are there dogs that have to go out before you leave in the morning? Or windows that need shut?
You don’t have to spend an hour getting ready for the next day. Sometimes ten minutes is enough to make the morning feel completely different. Instead of waking up and immediately hearing, “Where’s my backpack?” or “I can’t find my shoes!”, you’ve already taken care of the little things. And that means everybody gets to breathe.
Think about how a child feels when they wake up already being rushed. They’re tired. They’re trying to get dressed. Someone is telling them to hurry. They can’t find something. Now they’re frustrated.
Maybe they’re crying and they’re angry. Maybe they’re walking out the door already thinking, I don’t want to go to school. That’s a pretty rough way to start the day and yes, it happens to adults as well.
But what if we could take some of that pressure away before morning even arrives? What if the backpack is ready? The shoes are waiting. The keys are where they belong. Everybody knows what they’re doing.
Suddenly, there’s a little more breathing room. And sometimes that little bit of breathing room is all we need. Here’s the funny thing. I’ve discovered that this lesson didn’t disappear when my children grew up.
It followed me into adulthood. Charlie and David are both working, and there are still days when taking a few extra minutes at night to prepare for the next day makes everything smoother.
Put something where we’re going to need it. Get things together. Think about what tomorrow looks like. Then breathe. It isn’t complicated. And it isn’t really about school. It’s about life.
Now, that Charlie is grown “I’m Not a Mommy Blog” which I was in the past. And this is something I want to say because I’ve heard people use the words “mommy blog” so often that sometimes I feel like I need to explain what GreatfulMoments.com is.
I’m not the mom of a little child anymore. I’m not sitting here telling you how to pack a first-grader’s lunchbox or how to survive your toddler’s first day of preschool. That’s not my life anymore.
But I’ve been there. I’ve seen it and I’ve done it more times than I can count. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve learned things the hard way. And I’m still living these lessons every single day. That’s why I share them.
Because sometimes the things we learn when our children are little become the things we carry with us for the rest of our lives. So Tonight, Give Yourself Ten Minutes. Before everybody heads off to bed tonight, take ten minutes.
Look around. Think about tomorrow. Put the things you’ll need where you can find them. Help your children get their things ready. Then get your things ready. And then, when it’s done, breathe.
You may not have created a perfect morning. There probably isn’t such a thing. But you may have made tomorrow morning just a little easier. And sometimes that’s enough. Because when we take care of the little things, we have a little more room to be grateful for the big things.
And around here, that’s something worth remembering. Well, Buttercup… Take ten minutes tonight. Tomorrow morning might thank you for it. This is something I’m going to start doing every night for myself even though Charlie is grown and I work from home.
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
