How often do you have a Saturday with nothing to do? Without a soccer game on the schedule? Or some random kid’s birthday party?

I struggle a bit with the lazy, stay-at-home Saturday. I tend towards listless and feel unmoored. Too much idle time. It makes me nervous.

I wander around the house looking for things to do while trying to focus intently on my children, who spend Monday through Friday at day care. Focusing intently on them seems like the least I can do.

I just don’t always know what to do with them.

My mom kicked us out

I don’t remember my mother focusing intently on us when I grew up. I do remember being outside.

To hear my childhood best friend tell it, my mom would kick us out the door at 9 a.m. and then LOCK IT until she yelled for us to come home for lunch. This left us to do things like parade around the neighborhood with treasures we had found. Once that included an eviscerated rabbit, which we promptly tossed onto a trash can lid and presented it to the witchy old lady who lived around the corner.

I did plenty of things with my mom: baking cookies, reading books, playing umpteen games of cards. I don’t remember lacking her attention.

People will send the Secret Service or some such after you if you lock your kids outside these days. Especially if your kids are only 4 and 2 and a half.

I do like it when the boys are completely engrossed in one another, zooming around the house with firetrucks or clawing and pawing like bears or pretending the little one is the mommy and the big one is the baby. I eavesdrop on these games. And listen to them mirror me back: Don’t drive your truck on the wall. Say I’m sorry and give me a hug. Eat your mac’roni before you eat ice cream.

But since they’re occupied, I get antsy.

What should I do?

Shouldn’t I use this “free” time more wisely? What does that mean exactly? Folding laundry? Grading papers? Writing blog posts? Cleaning out the refrigerator? Reading a book? Drinking wine?

And shouldn’t I be ready and available if they suddenly need me?

I’ve spent the last four years pretty much waiting hand and foot on these little guys. And now comes the realization that they don’t need me quite as much.

Both of them can dress and undress themselves. Put on their coats and shoes. Ransack the refrigerator. Cut up pancakes with a knife. Pee in the potty. Peel a banana. Climb on the counter to fetch last year’s Halloween candy. Put toothpaste on their toothbrushes. Fall asleep without hours-upon-hours of cuddles. Unlock the back door and work the garage door opener. (If you see them wandering the streets, please bring them home. I didn’t actually kick them out. They escaped.)

And they can entertain themselves.

All without me.

The transition from baby to boy

People told me this transition from baby to boy happens quickly. I’m not sure this was quickly. But suddenly, here we are.

On Saturday, I wandered the house as they played, finally deciding to read a book. Shouldn’t I enjoy my stay-at-home day as much as them? Shouldn’t I find a world to immerse myself in, just like them? Shouldn’t I communicate that Mommy needs to have a life, too? To be their best mommy?

But I am still tethered to the idea that they need me.

So I sat in the same room where they played.

And when they asked me to join in, I put down my book. And focused intently on them. They just wanted me to color an airplane. With a pink crayon. That sucked me into their world.

My listless self was whisked away by my commitment to self. I chose a book. And then I chose a crayon. And that lazy, nothing-scheduled Saturday became one of the best of days.

Share how you spend a lazy Saturday with your kiddos below or on Facebook at MothersRest.

Photo credit: HaiRobe from pixabay.com

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS

I’m excited to share that the Greensboro News & Record featured this story on their site: Stay-at-home Saturday a reminder her boys aren’t babies anymore.