Expectation vs Reality

Expectation and reality are really two separate things, aren't they?  After deciding to give up TV, I had an expectation of the challenges I would face:  the struggle to find worthwhile activities; the discord with my wife that would intermittently surface after taking away one of our favorite evening and weekend pastimes; and oh, the boredom.  I had a secret fear that the monotony of "real life" would be unbearable.  But after being TV-less for two full weeks, I now see how far off my original expectations were.

I've been most surprised to discover how easily the time passes.  Not once have I sat and twiddled my thumbs thinking, "I have no idea what to do with myself."  It's not that there is suddenly more to do, but rather I've removed the object that always won out over the many other options that were always present.  We had a busy and eventful week, and I'm embarrassed to think of what I would have missed if I had spent my usual 2-3 hours/day watching the tube.

Yesterday was Eliza's 1st birthday (observed).  Chêz worked hard in preparation, and she succeeded in making it a beautiful and memorable day.  We had a tight-knit party with our family at our house where we celebrated, played games, and watched Eliza smush a bright pink cake all over her face.  It was both wonderful and exhausting.

Eliza celebrates her dominance over the birthday cake.

After the party when Eliza and Chêz were taking well deserved naps, I normally would have plopped on the couch and watched the NFL playoffs, dreading the moment when Eliza woke up and I would have to snap back into the role of responsible husband and father. But I'm starting to realize now that I'm always responsible. I'm either responsible for the edification of my family or responsible for the malaise that accompanies my apathy.

So instead of plopping and watching, I cleaned up the remnant mess from Eliza's party, and I sat quietly in the kitchen while I ate dinner and reflected on a joyful day of laughter and family. And when Eliza stirred, I eagerly greeted her, fed her dinner, and splashed her down into a warm bath so that I could try to get out the dried crumbs of cake that were still in her hair.  Needless to say, Chêz was thrilled when she woke up to find a happy, well fed, clean baby, and she now thinks that I'm the perfect husband.  I'm sure at some later point I'll have a post about how I was able to prove her wrong, but for now, I'll take it.

I'm glad I'm getting more done because that's what I thought this experiment was about: being more productive.  But I'm starting to understand that it's actually about being present.  It's about being available and tuned in to the needs of my family and those around me.  I'm no longer anxious to put my daughter to bed so that I can watch the latest episode of "The Office" in peace.  Instead, I'm learning how to be a blessing to the people who are most important to me.

I read a quote this week that really made an impact on me:

"You will never find time for anything. If you want time, you must make it."  - Charles Buxton

I have no idea who Charles Buxton is (and if someone finds out he is a racist or a Nazi or something, I'll stop quoting him), but I think he's right on the money. I'm ready to stop trying to find time for the important things in my life. I'm ready to start making time.