My long-distance partner has two kids; one is 15 and the other is 11. On the weekends when her kids are with her, I’ll call to find them all in a snuggle pile, playing music, reading, or watching a movie. Since they’re in Florida, they stick around the house to avoid people who aren’t taking the health crisis seriously. They float through their weekends with no plans and no desire to make any. This is a direct contrast to the scene at my house on a weekend day with kids. Mine are younger (10 and 8), and I have one more — the 8-year-olds are twins — but we don’t really have lazy days. Instead, while squeezing in daytime video chats with my partner, I’m packing snacks and sports equipment, calling out times we need to leave, switching laundry, and trying to finish a cup of coffee. On our best days, we have a plan. We’re busy, and it’s easier that way.
At times I’m a little jealous of my partner’s ability to just chill with her kids for long stretches of time. It seems peaceful and even recharging; some days I long for the ability to have a day filled with movies, snuggles, and quiet. I have even tried to have one of these days with the kids when we didn’t have any plans on the schedule. I think I stupidly announced that we were going to have a “quiet day at home.” By 10:30 a.m., I was loading them into the car to head to the park or an open field to run the energy, bickering, and sibling rivalry out of their systems.
My kids can absolutely sit and draw, play with Legos, or read for chunks of time. But it’s rare that all of them are doing a calm, still activity at the same time. Someone is always up for an adventure, pillow fight, or wrestling match. Movie watching is often a gymnastics event, too, or like a nap they take that recharges them into overdrive the minute the credits roll. They — we — need to move. And they — and admittedly I — need a plan.
I’m also an active, need-to-move kind of person. I like puttering around the house. I love to go for walks, get in a good sweat, and head outside for adventures. I don’t like to sit for too long because I feel like I’m missing out on something. Or my anxiety kicks in and I need to move before I crawl out of my skin. But movement alone doesn’t soothe my nerves; the high energy of my kids without an outlet makes me anxious, too, so instead of fighting it or trying to tame the forward momentum we are constantly in, we harness it.
My kids know how to be bored and manage down time (and for the most part they do — again, just not all at the same time, so someone is always up for an activity), but even if it’s a trip to the library or ball field, everyone is happier when we have a plan versus open-ended time on our hands. My kids love sports and time with friends. They love to socialize and experience new things, so our schedule fills quickly with school activities, sports, work, and social time.
It can be exhausting on the days we are jumping from one activity to the next while eating a packed dinner and changing in the van, but this on-the-go lifestyle works for us. We have created more opportunities for connection and moments of quality time than when we try to snuggle and watch a movie.
We settle in by making a plan and getting out of the house. Open-ended days can work for us if they start with a suggestion for what we can do that day. There have been plenty of days when staying in, making forts, and watching a movie was the plan. But my kids and I like to know what’s next. When we take some of the unknown out of the openness of a day, we all relax. And while this may seem contradictory, having a loose idea of how the day will go allows for more spontaneity.
We don’t rush from one thing to the next, but the idea that there will be a “next” is what keeps us all present, because it seems to create an illusion of control in a family of big, active personalities. When the mood shifts, we all know we can move onto something else — whether together or individually — that meets our needs.
This may change a bit as my kids get older, and a lazy day may actually include lazy children. But for now we thrive in the busy, and it’s easier to go with it than turn a pig pile into a snuggle pile.
