Constraints

My boys just wrapped up their first real baseball season (tee ball is a wonderland of hits, happiness, and snacks—baseball, even at 6 and 7 years old, is where failed careers go to coach). Since late March, our weeks have consisted of three commitments, either practices or games, every week.

Add an hour of jiu jitsu every Tuesday and Thursday, the wrap-up of the school year, summer pool trips, weekly training for a fundraiser bike ride, and all the usual goings on of dinners and playdates and keeping two careers afloat? It's been a hectic few months.

But now that we have decisions to make and options choose from (woe is me, I know), I realize just how easy life was with those constraints.

An emphasis in our house is to stick to our commitments. We could skip baseball practice to go to a friend's house, but we go to practice. We could skip jiu jitsu because we needed a night in, but we go to class. I could have the beer and skip the next morning’s training ride, but I pick the near-beer instead.

Knowing what we're going to do with significant chunks of every week has been unexpectedly freeing. Constraints get a bad rap, but what they do is narrow the number of choices. We've missed weekend trips and weekday playdate offers with zero guilt. Decision fatigue can't creep in when you already know where you're spending big chunks of every day, especially when everyone needs down time in between.

But overcommitting isn't an option either—there's no quicker path to overstimulated and under-regulated kids. Even as adults, we can say yes too much and end up burned out. I always viewed constraints as a bad thing—the word conjures up the image of being tied down. But I'm now going to start looking for how else I can put constraints on myself, real constraints, especially ones that are good for me and my family. Boy Scouts or another outdoorsy group. A family hiking group. Music lessons. Group workouts. Cooking classes.

I have no idea what I'll find, but rather than emphasizing optionality, I know I’ll appreciate constraints.

Turns out it's the only way to feel a little free.

P.S. thanks to those that have encouraged me to just write more, and others that have set the example by writing shorter missives. You know who you are.