The other morning I was feeling frustrated about getting things done. I am a list maker. An accomplisher. Give me a list of tasks and I’d love to get them done & check them off. At the end of the day, I measure my daily success in tasks crossed off. Lately that isn’t the way my life works. I still make lists. But I know even while I’m making them that only 10% of them even have a remote chance of getting done. I hate that. I’m trying to not let it make me crazy.
I am trying to just put less stuff on my list. That seems like a smarter choice. I’m trying to just sit down and watch as Oliver enjoys his new favorite food: mini wheats.