Have To and Need To

(Forgive me, for this post will contain zero pictures of my beloved children.)

Before the day even started, I was wondering how on Earth we were going to do everything we had to do. We had to be up early. Big D had to be at school at 8:30, A-Train at 8:45, and Mr Butler at 9:00. I won't bore you with the details here, but the drop-off process involves an hour of driving in a big circle.

While the kids were at school I had to go to a meeting with the ED of a non-profit I volunteer with. I had to get groceries. I had to go back to the grocery store to get cat food. I had to get a cup or coffee before I knifed someone. I had to do a load of laundry before we all went naked.

I had to pick the kids up at 11:45, 1:00, and 3:30.

Somewhere in there, I had to go to Home Depot and be talked down to by some guy wearing an orange apron.

I had to get A-Train to his hour-long OT appointment at 4:30.
And Big D to 5:00 soccer practice.
And A-Train to 6:15 soccer practice.
And make dinner to be served at our usual 6:00 dinner time.
And have Mr Butler in bed at 7:30.

Yeah, that's where it fell apart. All day long I did mental walk-throughs on how I was going to make all of this happen. I'd have to get a kid dressed in his soccer gear two hours before practice started. I'd have to pack up another kid's soccer gear so that he could change in the car after his appointment. I'd have to pack a picnic dinner to be eaten field-side at soccer practice. And, of course, I'd have to be in at least two places at the same time.

Somewhere in the mid-afternoon it hit me. The kids didn't have to go to soccer practice. Life would go on if they missed it. Though they could both use to get in another practice before their first games this weekend, they didn't have to have it. A five and a seven-year-old missing a soccer practice is not the same as a cardiologist missing a surgery. No one was going to die!

So, instead of doing what we had to do, we did what we needed to do. We came home and called Cap'n because the boys needed to hear his voice. And we ate cereal and instant oatmeal for dinner at 6:15! And we sat at the table and talked to each other. And we said what the best and worst parts of our days were. And then the boys basked in the warm glow of various electronic devices for a number of minutes that was far beyond reasonable.

And then, in turn, I needed to read The Diggingest Dog and The Fantastic Mr. Fox and Harry Potter and I needed to snuggle in with each of my boys and tell them that I love them and that I'm proud of them and that they make me happy every single day.

And not once did they ask me why we weren't doing what we had to do.