The Art of Laziness

I think Elizabeth touched the surface here of what might be entire philosophy of laziness. But that's not the right word for it. It's more like freedom. I've been thinking about it for years…

For us, our second child was born, when we still lived in the San Francisco area. Before her, we'd been trying to keep up: gadding about to press parties, arty loft parties, dinner-at-the-new-Tuscan-or-Thai-place events, crazy themed events involving mini-golf or scavenger hunts. We didn't want to miss anything. We were even trying to be on time for things—or what passes for on time there, which is an hour late—even though we had a toddler and a million things to do to get out the door. And then Ava was born and napping seemed like a better idea than most things. I still remember the first time we used the excuse, "We can't get a sitter," when it wasn't even true. It worked beautifully. Dan and I looked at each other—light bulbs going off over our heads, "We can do anything we want. We have kids: The perfect excuse!"

It started as an excuse. And then it became a way of life. We would say the kids were acting up or we couldn't get a sitter just because an event suddenly seemed like too much trouble, we'd just gotten in a good movie, we didn't want to end the bliss of a sleeping baby, or no one wanted to take charge and get the kids' gear packed. We didn't bail on things if it would inconvenience anyone, of course. We aren't rude. But so often, it doesn't really matter. And no one ever seemed to mind too much when we didn't show up.

Now it's a habit—I think it might also be a form of liberation: We are free of self-imposed obligation.

About the pool on Saturday….You know, Elizabeth when you didn't show up? It was nice. Really nice, actually. There was a breeze. The kids played together without killing each other. We drank Newcastle's. It was one of those times, for us, when getting out of the house is the right thing to do. We'd both had a long week and rushed to hit deadlines in time to get there before the pool closed. But when I filed that last article, I wanted to run from my home office. And our kids wanted to go enough that they packed their bags and jumped in the car.

It would have been nice to see you but we didn't mind that you didn't come. You have kids: The perfect excuse! And we have kids. So we get that.