Routine – Just say “No”

just say no to routineThe morning routine in my house is pretty simple and straightforward.  Get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, pack lunches, go to school.

I’m blessed that my husband can drop the kids off at school in the mornings and that we can squeeze a few coffee dates in when we need time to talk.

I’m blessed that my kids are pretty content with a small selection of simple breakfast foods, and that they are fairly self sufficient.  On a good day, they’ve got most of their lunches packed and are eating breakfast by the time I finish dressing.

This week – not so much.

This week, the oldest has been sick.  Nothing major, but it was enough.  So each morning, I’ve had one sick whiney child laying on the couch complaining… while the healthy child stands at the door and complains about the unfairness of going to school.

This week, just as I recover from all the whining, the painter has arrived.   The rest of my days have been a whirlwind of Christmas panic, remodel mess, whining children, fever, and paint fumes.

Today, I did the unthinkable.  I blew off the routine.

My husband decided to cook eggs for breakfast today.  It’s a bit of a change, but who am I to complain.  He cleans up the mess when he’s done.

Except.  Younger son doesn’t like eggs.  I’m not a huge fan of them myself, but I’m an adult and can refrain from making gagging noises at the thought of eggs for breakfast.    (at least when the kids are looking.)

GoGo is on the couch, clearly pouting about the eggs and the gross unfairness of having to go to school even though his brother is staying home to watch cartoons.   I went and sat down on the couch to see what I could do (like maybe remind him it’s the last day of school and he has a party day and presents to give his friends.)

My little baby boy crawled in my lap and just melted.  So did my heart.

Me:  GoGo, what can I do?

GoGo:  Mommy, I want to go to Chic Fil A for breakfast.

My first instinct was to say no.

There’s a long list of adult reasons to say no.

But I didn’t.

I took him by the hand and put my finger to my lips in the universal sign for quiet.  We grabbed his backpack and my keys and tip toed out of the house.

We ran to the car, leaving my husband, the sick child, the paint fumes, the unfinished Christmas list, and the remodel mess behind.

All the way to Chic Fil A, GoGo just kept saying

I can’t believe we’re really doing this!

He had a huge grin on his face and was laughing.

Honestly, I felt the same way.  It felt good to run away from home.  It felt right to shake up our normal routine.

Sometimes, you just need to say “no” to routine.

Sometimes, you just need to be the mom who says “yes.”

By the time I resumed my normal morning routine today, my sick child had been fed (and my husband said something that made him less whiney.)  The dishwasher is running, the trash is out, and the painters are off until after Christmas.

I think this is how great new traditions are born.

What about you?  Ever just run away from home for an hour?  Have you ever really shocked your kids by doing something so out of character and totally unexpected?

[author] [author_image timthumb=’on’][/author_image] [author_info]Houston Mom Blogger Susan Baker has a passion for encouraging weary worn out mothers to find joy in everyday motherhood. She has two elementary school boys, one engineering husband, and one cat. She has a strange fascination  for eggs, socks, and books.  She spends far too much time on Social Media and at Target. She is crazy in love with her family.  She serves an amazing God.   She lives an ordinary life filled with wonder. [/author_info] [/author]

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Susan Baker
I have a passion for encouraging weary worn out mothers to find joy in everyday motherhood and peace in unlikely places. I have two elementary school boys, one nerdy husband, and two cats. I have a strange fascination for bad puns, the color pink, socks, and books. I worry about running out of toilet paper, wine, and chocolate.. I serve an amazing God. I live an ordinary life filled with wonder.
Susan Baker
Susan Baker

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