I have no idea what to do with myself right now. Siig came home early and took the kids to a friend’s house so he could drink beer with his buddy Mike. (Don’t worry, Mike has two kids so Kaiden and Kaya are entertained.) Articles written. Laundry done. Bills paid. Shower taken. Stuff organized. Hmmm, so I guess that means I have absolutely, positively, NOTHING to do. Nothing? I don’t even know what that is anymore. How do you do nothing?
Let’s see, I could watch TV, have the remote all to myself. That sounds luxurious. I could watch my favorite, guilty pleasures – America’s Next Top Model or Keeping up with the Kardashians. But wait. We just switched out satellite TV for cable to save money so I don’t think I get those channels anymore. Bummer. Now I’m going to have to watch something educational like the History Channel or PBS. Scratch that.
What else could I do? Lying down and reading a book sounds divine, but I’ve finished my book, as well as my most recent Time. There’s always napping, but I suck at sleeping. It’s hard enough for me at night, so it’s sure as heck not going to happen during the day. I’ve already gotten some exercise today biking the kids in the chariot, so I don’t need to do that again. I could start dinner, but we are barbecuing tonight, and that is Siig’s domain. Wow, finding nothing to do is a lot harder than I thought. I guess after two kids I am out of practice.
I could stare out my window and watch the lilacs bloom, the afternoon thunderstorm threaten but not produce, the pine trees stand regal and watchful and wise while the aspen trees quiver in the breeze beneath them. Wait. I think I just wrote something poetic. That’s something, the opposite of nothing.
It’s hard enough for Americans to do nothing – programmed as we are to always achieve and do, do, do – but I think it’s even harder for women, especially mothers, to just completely chill out. Usually, there is always something to do every second – dirty clothes to pick up, crumbs to clean, dishes to put away, forms to fill out, mouths to feed. To do nothing sometimes seems like a waste of a precious resource, a moment to complete some task. It almost feels awkward to sit still, foreign. We have forgotten the language of nothing, or maybe we simply never knew it.
For some reason, I don’t think men have this same problem. Or maybe they just interpret doing something differently than women. I think for men, something includes drinking beer and watching TV, preferably sports. So maybe I should take my cue from them. I just need to go upstairs, crack open a Budweiser and find the basketball game on ESPN. Then I will finally have achieved the art of nothing.
Crap. No more ESPN. Guess I better stick to doing something. I’m much better at it.