Opportunity Cost

My economist husband enjoys using terms like "sunk cost" and "economies of scale" in our regular conversations. Such language is usually met with a rolling of the eyes. Supply and demand curves don't thrill me, much to his chagrin.

But sometimes his economics jargon comes in handy. Every now and then one of his classroom concepts hits so close to home that I want to stand up and applaud.

In this case, the credit goes to John Start Mill, the classical economist who came up with the theory of opportunity cost. I'll explain in a minute. {Believe me it's all related.}

I haven't blogged in two or three weeks. My unintended bloggattical is merely a symptom of this season.

Between homeschooling and making sure Cupcake doesn't burn down the house while I teach, I am spent by 1:00. Too many people and too many tasks seem to require me for completion.

On any given day I want to pretend run away. When I leave for the store my husband says, "Call me when you get to Mexico." We laugh as I pull out of the driveway but we both know he's half-way serious.

I'm not alone of course. I'm simply one among the multitude giving voice to the struggle of the everyday.

Lately the simmer of trying to balance it all has cranked up to a rapid boil. I am often paralyzed by too much needing my attention all at once. The immediate takes precedence and anything that can wait does exactly that.

I want to paint the hutch, so desperately needed for inside storage, that sits in my garage. I want to put away summer clothes, clean out, give away, restore order, write a little, and help others. The chocolate drool stains on my furniture glare at me every time I walk past. I would flip the cushion but I already have.

The non-urgent simply has to wait.

I feel justified in my desires for order and peace. But when I survey the land with brutal honesty, I am left with one painful conclusion:

I want to own my time. I want to make time sit down and obey...but it won't listen, much like my 2-year-old. There is a time for everything but time itself is not mine to subdue.

And this brings us back to our economics lesson.

Opportunity cost: the value of the next best alternative forgone as the result of making a decision. (Webster's)

My example: The opportunity cost of homeschooling is that laundry doesn't always get done in a timely manner or at all. The opportunity cost of having young children at home is a less than orderly household. The opportunity cost of making ends meet means that economist husband teaches extra classes and is gone much of the week.

{And I am thankful. For employment in uncertain times, for the time with my children at home, for a million blessings I could list right now.}

We make decisions that we hope will benefit our family both now and in the long run but the opportunity costs are time and resources for other things that might bring about "visual peace," more room, time for ourselves, and time for others.

I used to work full-time outside the home. The opportunity cost of a fulfilling career and extra income was eventually {for me} too much stress and missing my kids. Now that I'm home full-time, the opportunity cost of being here is missing certain elements of my career and having far fewer dollars.

I doubt that John Stuart Mill ever considered opportunity cost for modern-day moms, both those in and out of the home. But I consider it every day.

There is a season, an opportunity for most everything. Seasons don't last though. A new one arrives and we celebrate. It persists for a time and we endure. It changes, finally, and we welcome another. Sometimes we're glad it's gone. Sometimes we grieve, forever, that it will never return.

Lately I've been less than celebratory over this particular season. I want endless opportunities and no cost. I begrudgingly endure, complaining my way through the laundry and the mess and the tantrums. I'm tired of my own whining.

My soul longs to trudge through with grace and gratitude.

Recently, I pondered a passage that I've heard a hundred times, ancient words considered anew as a welcome salve for this season's irritations.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

a time to change diapers and a time to get a shower ,

a time to teach pronouns and a time to eat chocolate. {SAHM translation}

Words to live by. Apparently John Stuart Mill wasn't the first to articulate opportunity cost...

Class dismissed.