The (not so) Lazy River

One of the joys and challenges of sabbatical is getting to spend uninterrupted time with our children. Without the demands of work and ministry Jason and I are able to be more present to ourselves and our family. In fact, a goal that we each made during this time was to invest more intentionally in our parenting as well as our marriage.

We set out by making a loose schedule so as not to lose our minds in 3 months of travel. It's true, travel demands flexibility, especially with young children...one of whom is still potty training. As a parent the only way to keep my head above water is to be ready to adapt and think on my toes. There's no questions that on any given day I'll be thrown several curve balls.

Even on sabbatical.

Especially on sabbatical.

Our attempt at keeping order and setting expectation has been a daily routine of "morning activity, rest, home school, free play." On our more laid back days it means the mornings are a time to get outside, go for a hike, explore, or try something new. I'm typically the one to plan something more ambitious. Horseback riding, farmers market, theme park, zoo trip.

One particular morning we ventured to a local aquatic center. The kids were thrilled because it had water features, a slide, diving board, and yes, a lazy river.

I heard a lifeguard say that lazy river duty is the toughest assignment you can get. You have to be super vigilant because, as it turns out, the lazy river is anything but lazy. Kids are playing tag, adults are crashing into small children, people get trapped under their tubes or swept by the current into the wall. It's more like mayhem. But it's so fun.

Of course my kids wanted to start the day in the lazy river. And of course it led to a family game of tag. A game that didn't end for over two hours. That current was strong! We were swept around the corner, under the waterfall, past the whirlpool, and back around the bend time after time. We were all in. Daniel would tag Jason and Jason would hide behind the wall, resisting the current, then jump out just as Elie was getting doused by the seven streams of water that created a canopy of sensory overload above. Mayhem indeed.

We went around that river countless times. Every 20 minutes or so I'd wonder if we were going to stop. I felt that tired mom feeling rise up, like, maybe I can sit in a lounge chair and enjoy watching the fun instead of being beaten by these relentless jets. But then Daniel or Elie, or better yet, Jason, would tag me and squeal, "Mama's it!" and I'd be effortlessly swept into joy again. Shamelessly I dodged and pushed past helpless children to catch up to my own and tackle them from behind. It was a lot of fun.

I mentioned earlier two of our values over sabbatical; become more intentional in our parenting and in our marriage. A third goal that I have for myself, given to me primarily by my sabbatical coach and by Jason, is to work on caring for myself. I'm terrible at it. I think most moms are. But I'm awful. Next level. Downright concerning. Enneagram 2 (if that means anything to you) with a side of neurodivergence which just means I'm completely out of touch with what I need. Until it's too late. And then all of a sudden I know exactly what I need and I need it immediately.

So when the kids race to the pool and pull me into the lazy river, my first reaction is anxiety. How long are we going to be here? Am I supposed to enjoy this? Is Daniel drowning? Where is Jason? Is he going to leave me here getting pummeled by teenagers? And the loudest thought of them all, "Shhhhh, just enjoy the ride." I manage to listen to the loudest voice this time and enter into play. Every once in awhile the other voices surface. I try my best to discern what is legitimate and what can be ignored.

Why is the waterfall designed to spray directly in my face?

Is that lifeguard about to blow her whistle at me? Did I do something wrong?

Am I taking up too much space in here? Are other parents annoyed?

I wonder if my kids are hungry. It's probably time for a snack.

Then, WAP! Jason tags me (around the waist) and soars off through the water in victory. "Mama's it!"

My internal world is much like a (not so) lazy river. It goes around and around and around. Pushed by the jets of parenting, work, life, and normal responsibilities. I'm pulled into a pace that feels frantic and even out of control at times. I forget that this is supposed to be fun. I'm with the best people in the world. In a moment we'll never get to relive. And I'm worried about all the wrong things.

Overstimulating and overwhelming? Yes. Absolutely. Wild and unpredictable? 100%. I feel like the river could go either way. A rousing good time or a disordered mess. And the only one who can rightly discern the difference is the person being swept through the game.

How is this going? Am I still having fun? Do I have capacity to enjoy this or do I need to sit out?

Depending on my perspective and how much reserve I come into the pool with, I may need some time in the lounge chair watching Dad chase the kids. But on my best days, the days I live for, the circles I go around don't drown me. They don't even irritate me or threaten to take me out of the game. I can enter the madness of parenting, life, and responsibilities with joy

Slowly, and over the course of the last 30 days, I feel my reserves filling up. I feel my capacity for the turbulent, water-up-your-noise, foot to the face, tossed against the wall, lazy river growing. I feel the joy rising. I feel the laughter returning. I don't want out of the pool. I want to keep playing.