Four weeks ago, in the middle of a kitchen chaos, my oven decided it had enough and gave up the ghost. Picture this: zucchini bread batter all mixed and ready to go, and there I stood, my eyes wide and a vein in my temple threatening to burst. Flour in my hair and batter splattered on my clothes, I had a few choice words for my now-defunct oven.
The next day, the repair crew came over and informed me that the central circuit board had gone kaput. Naturally, the manufacturer had stopped making the parts needed for the repair. As luck would have it, they could send it in for a “small” fortune to get it fixed, or I could fork over a large fortune for a brand-new oven.
“Sure, send it to the manufacturer,” I said, as if there were really any other option.
As they carried it away, I learned I’d be oven-less for two weeks—and stovetop-less as well. “There must be plenty of great takeout options around here, right?” the technician joked, as he made a speedy exit, clearly keeping an eye on the volcano of stress brewing in my forehead.
No oven or stove for two weeks? Oh boy. I rummaged through the freezer and found a treasure trove of emergency corn dogs, dinosaur nuggets, and microwaveable veggies.
I wish I could tell you I crafted a makeshift stovetop with sheer determination and some chicken wire, or whipped up adorable tea party snacks. But let’s be real. The repair guy was spot on; my family has enjoyed a whole lot of takeout and microwaved meals lately. And you know what? I didn’t merely like it; I loved it. I’ve become one with my microwave—there, I said it.
Since becoming a parent, I have felt this immense pressure to serve healthy, home-cooked meals, the kind that make me feel like a culinary superhero. My kids have developed a taste for fresh fruits and vegetables, and they love my healthy baked goods. I take pride in feeding them well.
But in these past three weeks, I’ve realized something important: in my quest to balance work and family life, I’ve often felt overworked, exhausted, and overwhelmed.
I remember one night, leaving work late when one of my favorite nurses, noticing I still had to pack lunches for my kids and wake up early to take them to school, said, “You have to let it go. Just let it go.” I nodded, bewildered, and trudged out the door, too tired to engage further.
But now? Now, I get it. The breakdown of my beloved oven forced me to take a breather from the never-ending cycle of meal prep. Those extra hours of free time have been nothing short of glorious. I can spend them being productive, or I can simply lounge on my couch with a cup of coffee and binge-watch HGTV. I can even reach out to a friend and genuinely ask, “How are you?”
Those spare hours have lifted a burden I didn’t even realize I was carrying. I feel lighter, less cranky, and more energized. I had no idea that something as seemingly simple as preparing meals was draining me. It’s easy to dismiss the challenges of everyday tasks, but if you’re the one responsible for them, you know it’s no walk in the park.
So, what else do I do that adds unnecessary stress? Each task we take on seems manageable at first, but before we know it, we’re stretched too thin. We’re juggling so much that we can’t fully invest ourselves in anything, leaving us feeling like we’re doing everything half-heartedly.
Let’s cut ourselves some slack. What we accomplish is enough, and what we don’t get done is perfectly acceptable. Focus your energy on the things that matter most, and when there’s not enough of you to go around, it’s okay to embrace that. There’s no glory in being constantly busy. Instead, let’s celebrate the value of being present, enjoying life, and taking the time to relax.
Let’s challenge the culture of busyness and find joy in those broken ovens and microwaves from time to time.
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In summary, the chaos of daily life can leave us feeling overburdened. By recognizing our limits and allowing ourselves some grace, we can find joy in the little moments and prioritize what truly matters.