Full

It's Wednesday afternoon.

Lunchtime, technically.

Not that I really get to eat lunch most days.

But it's nice to think about.

This week has been full.

And busy.

Those mean two completely different things in my mind.

Busy is having too much to do.

Full is having a lot worth doing.

This week has been both.

David and Jacob are working through their first full week of school.

The new routine is becoming an actual routine.

Earlier mornings.

Longer days.

Homework.

Stories when they get home.

The normal things that seemed so far away just a few weeks ago.

Jacob got one of his first reading scores back.

He was disappointed.

It was lower than he expected.

Meanwhile, his mom and I looked at it completely differently.

It was higher than we expected.

Not because we don't believe in him.

Because we know where he started.

We've watched that kid push himself all summer.

Reading more.

Trying harder.

Working through things that didn't come easily.

The number he saw wasn't the number he wanted.

The number we saw was evidence.

It showed us that all that work mattered.

I just wish he could see his progress as clearly as we can.

Maybe sometimes being Dad means seeing the progress before your child can.

Until he sees it too...

We'll keep reminding him.

David is back in his groove.

Mornings aren't necessarily his favorite thing.

Honestly, I can't blame him.

But once he's moving, he's moving.

School David is back.

Fall baseball will be starting soon too.

Different league.

Another season.

Another chance to play.

Hopefully it helps him prepare for what he really wants next.

School baseball in the spring.

Fingers crossed.

Zoey is still flying.

Actually, we've reached the point where I occasionally interrogate my daughter because I cannot believe she has finished her schoolwork that quickly.

"You're done?"

Yes.

"With everything?"

Yes.

"You checked?"

Yes.

"Show me."

She does.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Apparently Dad is the problem here.

We're going to rearrange the computer lab a little to make the space work even better for her.

Because naturally what I needed was another project.

I'll add it to the list.

Somewhere.

Asher started some light homeschooling this week too.

And it's working.

Really well.

We've talked for a while about how different this year would be for him and my wife.

For years, she was homeschooling four kids.

Then fewer.

Now, during much of the school day, it's the two of them.

One-on-one.

I thought they both needed that.

Now I'm watching it happen.

They did.

He's getting the attention and flexibility that work so well for him.

She's getting the opportunity to focus on one child instead of trying to simultaneously meet four completely different educational needs.

They're finding their rhythm.

I love seeing it.

Then there's my school.

Apparently I have the week off.

I did not know this.

I spent part of the week working through everything I needed to submit.

Then I started struggling to figure out why I couldn't submit it.

Turns out...

The problem wasn't the system.

The problem was me.

I'm a week early.

That's a new one.

I'm not going to squander it.

I'll have everything ready when the assignments open Monday.

Then I'll start working ahead on what's next.

A little breathing room has unexpectedly appeared in the schedule.

I'm taking it.

Which is probably good because Saturday is coming.

Jacob turns ten.

Two digits.

We've been planning this one for a while.

The kids now know we're going somewhere.

They know they have to get up early.

They know it's a trip.

That's about it.

They have no idea where we're going.

My wife and I intend to keep it that way.

And we're probably enjoying that far more than we should.

There are other things multiplying around here too.

My wife and I have been talking about creating a newsletter to go with our family photos this year.

Because apparently the solution to having too many projects is creating another project.

The weather is beginning to cool.

Not fall yet.

But enough to remind us that eventually we'll be able to work outside without immediately regretting every decision that led us there.

That means the garden plans are becoming real again.

The chicken run.

The yard.

And now I've started looking at the front porch.

I don't particularly like the stepping stones, gravel, and grass situation we currently have for the walkway.

So naturally I'm wondering whether I should redo part of the porch, reclaim the wood, and use it to build something better.

This is how these things start.

Someone should probably stop me.

Nobody will.

Somewhere underneath all of this is something else I miss.

Streaming.

I really do.

I miss sitting down.

Pushing the button.

Playing something.

Talking.

Having that little creative space for a few hours.

I'll get back there.

The equipment is getting sorted.

The time will come back.

But sometimes something has to give when life gets full.

Right now...

Life is very full.

It's lunchtime as I write this.

Again, theoretically.

There is work waiting.

Meetings waiting.

Projects waiting.

Kids doing school.

Kids coming home from school.

A tenth birthday waiting for Saturday.

A computer lab waiting to be rearranged.

A garden waiting for cooler weather.

A porch that doesn't yet know I've started making plans for it.

A stream waiting for me to push the button again.

Busy?

Absolutely.

But full?

Even more so.

I'll take full.

Busy and full can look almost identical from the outside. Both can mean crowded calendars, unfinished projects, and wondering how everything is going to fit. The difference, at least for me, is what fills the space. There are certainly things I'd love to have more time for right now, but when I look at what keeps taking that time, I see children learning, people finding their rhythm, birthdays being planned, a family building things together, and plenty of ideas for what comes next. Being busy can wear us down. A full life can do that too. But every once in a while, it's worth looking at everything competing for our attention and remembering how much of it we once hoped we'd have.

Much love.

Stay safe.

Wash your damn hands.

And I will see you, next time.