Anything, Not Everything

I had big plans for this past weekend, our busiest in quite a while. Some old friends were in town. There were two birthday parties — one adult, one kid — to attend. I also wanted to run a 5K, make strawberry ice cream with the fruits of Emma’s strawberry-picking field trip last Friday, and go to the grocery store.

“We can do it all,” I thought. “We can make this work!”

You know that saying? That you can do anything but you can’t do everything?

Yeah.

On Saturday, we did indeed meet up with our friends. They lived here for a while before moving back to Ohio three years ago to be closer to family. They have two girls as well, one a few weeks older than Emma and one 8 months older than Charlotte. We hung out at our house for a bit then went out to dinner, and it was so great to catch up on each others’ lives.

But I didn’t run the 5K that I’d been considering. And my first attempt at the ice cream was a total bust when the custard base got too hot and turned into scrambled eggs.

On Sunday, Emma and I did make a much-needed trip to the grocery store to restock the fridge that hasn’t been full since before we left for North Carolina. We went to a joint birthday party for one of Emma’s best buds and his little sister.

But we had to skip the adult birthday party in a park because between naps and the kid birthday party, there just wasn’t time.

I can do anything. But I can’t do everything.

Sometimes I sort of forget that our kids are kids, plural — as in two of them. I forget that they are still little. I forget that while they are surprisingly flexible, there are also some things that aren’t so fluid, like the necessity of naps to avoid later meltdowns. I forget that I can’t do things in the same way or on the same timetable as I could before I had kids.

Fortunately, there are alternatives. We can invite our friends to dinner next week, since we missed their party but I still want to see them. There will always be other 5Ks to run.

I can do anything but I can’t do everything.

And that’s going to have to be ok.

p.s. I thought I’d be able to add “I can make my strawberry ice cream with an easier — and eggless — recipe” to my list of alternatives. But I tried that last night and not only did the ice cream not set, but it apparently burned out the motor of our ice cream maker in the process. Anything, not everything. Sigh. And you can’t win them all.