Hurry up. Wait. Hurry up. Wait.

My days are crazy. They vary from running at top speed: driving back and forth, helping at school, helping with homework, Cooking. Cleaning. Laundering. Rushing. In short, doing all the things a mom does… or waiting. Waiting, and waiting some more.  I find waiting equally crazy to rushing.

Waiting for my husband to come home.  Waiting for meals to cook and for the dishwasher to run. Waiting for the bus. Waiting for one kid or another to come home or for the time to go and pick them up.  Waiting. Sometimes waiting for something to do.

While I wait, I feel a niggling fear: “Am I becoming obsolete?”



1. no longer in general use; fallen into disuse: an obsolete expression.

2. of a discarded or outmoded type; out of date: an obsolete battleship.

I’m far from being done as a mother. (While my oldest is 20, my youngest son is only 7. ) I am still needed daily. But truthfully?  I am no longer needed (in a practical sense) as a mother, every single moment.

It’s in those un-needed moments, that I wonder about my obsolescence.

What happens to obsolete things? (more…)