Priorities, Focus, and... hey, did I start the dish washer yet?

It's almost summer. I can tell by the significant increase in my classroom's decibel levels. Having the kids to remind me every three minutes (not exaggerating) that it's almost summer is also a strong indicator of the coming season.

And there's weeds. And the lawn (that apparently needs to be watered and mowed this year too).

Anyway, back to school. I find that two-thirds of my day is spent playing a game similar to whack-a-mole, but without the mallet: I run from student to student trying to calm them down, get them settled and working, only to find that five others have gotten off task. If there were a “most played” list of the phrases I've used today, they'd probably be: “Time to focus.” “What should you be doing right now?” “I can see that you're [insert kid shenanigans here]. A better choice would be to follow my directions.”

Kids these days. Heaven knows I'll be missing them in a few weeks.

Anyway—let's refocus here.

After work today, I had to make a quick trip to WalMart to buy the ingredients to make some birthday cupcakes. (Which didn't turn out quite as cute and tasty as I was hoping—sorry Sis.) That was it. Cupcake ingredients and then leave. But, wouldn't you know it? WalMart's garden center has really cute flowers. It was really hard not to walk by and at least contemplate which plants I would definitely have to go back and buy—oh—and there's patio furniture that would go great with my soon-to-be-built patio. (But, let's be honest, that furniture is probably going to end up being spray-painted pallets. DIY project. Nailed it.)

Focus. Focus.

All right. So I just needed cupcake ingredients. But then I saw the S'more flavored cotton candy. That's right. S'more flavored cotton candy. It took a couple of minutes of bantering back and forth between my adult self and my inner-child before I got distracted by something else—probably some lady walking around with a chihuahua. WalMart really does have it all.

So I put the cotton candy down (keeping in mind that just because my inner-child is 500 lbs and cavity-ridden doesn't mean I need to be too). I go to check out. And then I check something (erm, someone) else instead—I guess attractive people shop at WalMart too. Who knew? So, I'm walking to the “check-out” line trying to avert my eyes and not look stupid, wondering if he'd consider getting baptized into the Mormon church so that I could—you know—keep him forever and ever. Then, I chastised myself for being creepy. Oh man, I'm such a weirdo. (I don't think he saw me though—deep breath. Crisis avoided.) Just in and out—cupcake ingredients. That's it.

Long story short, turns out that telling my kids to “focus” or constantly asking them what they should be doing are comments I should be making to myself. With so many distractions, it can be hard at times.

It reminds me of playing softball as an itty-bitty thing. Dad was the coach. I wasn't the best player on the team, not by a long shot. But, I do remember a lot of the pointers Dad gave me. Choke up on the bat. Don't throw the bat. What are you doing—I thought I told you not to throw the bat. Don't cover your face with the mitt. Don't catch the ball with your hand—use the mitt. Stop dancing in the dugout, we need you at left field. Keep your eye on the ball.

That's what I want to talk about. Don't get distracted by the fact that someone just threw a ball that could hit you in the face. Don't get distracted by the other team shouting, “Eh, batter, batter, batter, batter. Eh, batter, batter, batter-- Swing!” Don't get distracted by the screaming fans (AKA, Mom). Keep your eye on the ball. The metaphorical ball, that is.

For me, personally, I find it difficult to get distracted by what could be categorized as “bad” things. However, I do find it easy to get distracted by “good” things—like the garden center, S'more flavored cotton candy, and the one attractive person who shopped at WalMart today. Good distractions.

But what should be my focus? I know that all of us have goals. I doubt very many of us wake up in the morning in hopes that we don't accomplish anything ever. (There's a thought for you—if your goal is to remain unaccomplished, and you accomplish that goal, then did you really accomplish your goal of unaccomplishment?... Don't think about it too much. Your head might hurt.)

Recently, I've found that a lot of my distractions come from work. From yard-work. From cleaning up after my butt-face/dog who thinks throwing-up is fun sometimes. (Actually I think he ate something that made him sick. But still.) Distractions from wanting to practice my music, my sewing, my running, my writing. Distractions from Master's credits. Distractions from politics and getting way more worked up over unimportant Facebook posts than I should.

So I've asked myself: What's your goal here? If you could only accomplish one thing today, what would it be?

Well—I've certainly gotten better at prioritizing since asking myself that question on a daily basis. It's helped me to put my priorities where my heart is. And my heart is so much happier when my priorities are aligned with it.

Of course, friends, you probably have already guessed that priority number one is my relationship with God, or my Spiritual health. As tempting as it is to get distracted by Netflix or pruning those lilac bushes, I know that those tasks should only be accomplished after reading my scriptures or praying or, at the very least, taking a moment to reflect on my own progress in following Jesus Christ.

Nurturing family and friend relationships fall in line. As do caring for those who rely on me—including but not limited to the butt-face dog.

Can you imagine how much better life would be for us—even as a society—if all of us took the time to prioritize? To not get distracted by unimportant things? Surely we'd be less interested in standing in line to get the latest [insert super cool gizmo here]--we'd be too busy doing things that matter. Things of substance and lasting importance.

So—ask yourself: If I could only accomplish one thing today, what would it be? And if you're not doing it—start. Don't get distracted. Focus. Keep your eye on the ball. I'll try to do the same.

Assuming I don't run into any S'more flavored cotton candy. Then, I might have a momentary priority shift.