A Plan to Not have a Plan

The following blog entry will be published in the Tualatin Newspaper in August:😄

I have a confession to make: Summers make me nervous.

I haven’t always felt this way; but since having four young kids, I shutter at the thought of having completely open days for weeks and weeks. 

So cute and innocent, right?!!

In my former life, aka before kids,  I was a teacher, so naturally I thrive on some semblance of plan and practice. I love the rhythms of school, activity and routine. Summers are without that cadence or vision; I spend many evenings scanning the internet for free kid-friendly events around town, anything to pass these long, hot, unstructured expanses of time.

Most of the time, my attempt at filling the day with structure turns out  differently than how I pictured and planned it in my mind. 

Crafts fall apart; cookie batter ends up everywhere; sticky bubble bottles overturned; I end up disappointed and irritated, still trying to figure out what to do with my kids. 

Recently, I had an afternoon with my three sons. We ended up at our favorite local park, Tualatin Community Park, otherwise known as “the train park” by my locomotive obsessed boys. 

They request this particular park a lot, mostly due to the exciting possibility that a train might pass through. Flashing gates, a blaring train whistle and the rumble of the the steel tracks  is just about the most exhilarating event that my boys could witness in an afternoon. 

On this beautiful day, the boys and I wandered around as they waited for a train to pass through. In the meantime, they discovered big branches and sticks, dug holes in dirt piles, and marveled at forest inhabitants. 

Show me your muscles!

We had no plan or objective,  but my boys seemed to be amused, and the anticipation of a train whistle was all they needed to contently wander this park. 

We soon found our way over to the boat launch. On a nice day there is a lot of action on this steep decline into the water. My boys were fascinated by the variety of kayaks, inner tubes, floating devices, dogs (and even a drone!) that entered and exited the water from this spot. They waved to all the people, and we all made small talk on this pleasant afternoon. 

Looking at the sky (and then at my phone) I wondered anxiously how I was going to fill this day. 

My boys began poking at the water with big sticks, totally captivated by the ripples they created.  Pulling up seaweed on the tips of their sticks, they excitedly exclaimed that they caught a fish! 

Getting deeper...

They giggled when their toes touched the cool water of the river; gaining confidence, they bravely ventured closer and closer to its edge. 

Muddy waters...

One of my sons reached down and from the beneath the murky water yanked up a big mound of muddy gravel.  

As his discovery dripped through his fingers, he turned around, beamed at me proudly and exclaimed, “Look Mom, sand mud!” 

Mud and more mud

The “sand mud” soon became mud balls, which soon became a mud tower, and suddenly my boys were hip deep in the Tualatin river, completely enchanted by their world around them. 

River fun

My first responsible reasonable mothering instinct was to halt this messy playtime and encourage them to do something less muddy and wet. However, something in me today felt at ease and delighted in what I was witnessing. 

I didn’t stop them as they began to take off their sandals. I stood amused as they began to build mud castles on the bank. 

I didn’t stop them because I suddenly realized that this was in fact the plan I needed. 

They were absolutely absorbed in their little piece of earth, exploring, enjoying and creating. 

My boys reminded me of something on this day; the world is simply fascinating, more fascinating than an organized craft time at my kitchen table. 

Embracing now that we have fully committed to an afternoon of river water and mud, I simply sat back and took in every marvelous muddy moment. 

This summer, I am learning that the best things in life often times are  unplanned….and messy!

Letting go of my expectations and simply living in the moment made me realize that life’s best memories can happen in between the plans.

 That afternoon by the Tualatin river, watching my sons’ delight, turned out to be one of my best days with them. 

Yes, we were dirty, and stinky; my van still smells like swamp water!  But driving home that day I looked in my rearview mirror at three giggling, partially naked boys who were very very happy.