I have seen this happen in other people's lives many times through my work as a nurse. Tragedy strikes, priorities buoy to the top and all of the other mundane 'have to's get pushed off or transformed to 'don't really have to at all's. I say, why wait for a car accident to take advantage of that insight?
As is the case with life at times, things all seem to be happening at once. Spring is here and my books tell me several seeds are ready to get a move on in the garden. Easter is upon us and my sister is hostessing a grand affair at her home in which myself and my cousin have been designated co-chefs and need to devise a menu pronto. Then there's the pottery, pottery, pottery; silently waiting to be glazed, or trimmed or all-together thrown. Sprinkle in a few kids and a house that, I swear, oozes dirty laundry and dishes, and what you have is a recipe for meltdown.
But, everything's okay here. Situation normal. The guru tells me even if I'd done nothing yet for my garden, I'd still be fine. Seeds can wait. They're seeds for crying out loud. It's their job. The family meal? I will be in town a good day and a half early. Plenty of time to shop for and prep a large meal. Plus, there will be almost as many children as adults. I'm guessing there isn't going to be a huge need to go all out for a short statured crew whose main course for the day will be hand delivered in a basket. The Pottery? I will not be empty handed at the craft show. Furthermore, if I were to sell everything I've already made, it would be a great day.
I know from experience laundry and dishes will hold (or the hubs will take care of them) and children are remarkably self sufficient, even at a young age. Today my toddler found a couple of peeps in a bag. He couldn't get it open so he chewed his way through. Now the safety issue of this situation notwithstanding, even at eighteen months a child is able to make do; especially with the right motivation. (Sugar: kids as Narcotics: adults.)
So to heck with those balls in the air. The time has come to let them go, sit back, and channel Doris Day. Que Sera, Sera.