(Trying to be) Easy on Yourself

Exploring Jefferson's Monticello

I'm typing this after being up most of the night with our teething toddler. I had planned on spending today writing and making progress on some new poems and submissions, but my head is fuzzy like unbrushed teeth. My to-do list is long and I probably shouldn't even be "indulging" in (unpaid) writing when there are other pressing things to do.

Today isn't a day when I'll be creating anything. I can do some laundry and basic tasks, but that's it. While I'm frustrated, this is part of parenthood and our (increasingly less new) reality. It is one that requires deep breaths (Dr. Karp's "magic breathing"?) and flexible thinking.

Yesterday, while the bambino was napping, he burst out into sleep-giggles. I was right there when it happened because he was napping in my arms, refusing the crib (another frustration). Without waking himself up, he smiled, his chest heaved and his eyes squinted. These moments remind me that everything is ok. Its ok to rest and enjoy each moment, tough and beautiful wrapped into one.

Excuse me while I refill my coffee cup and remind myself that writing isn't an "indulgence," it is what I do, along with many other things. And arrange to take a nap this afternoon.

Multi-tasking and Ignoring the Clock

Beach living... 

I can't stop thinking about the nature of parent-time. I'm writing this blog post crunched in the corner of the guest bed in my son's room. He fell asleep sprawled on the bed while nursing and so I pulled out my laptop to read student essays. If I move him into the crib, he'll wake up. This is a partially selfish move (I can do some work if he sleeps) and partially thoughtful move (infants need a lot of sleep, so why interrupt his?) Meanwhile, the bottom half of my body is numb and my wrists hurt as I type in this position.

Parenthood is multi-tasking to the extreme. There are things I need, he needs, my relationship with my husband needs, the household needs and my many p/t jobs and volunteer work need. Meanwhile there are the sudden needs, like car trouble or an ant infestation. There are emails, phone calls, knocks on the door and errands to run. There are poop explosions to clean up and balanced meals to prepare and Breaking Bad to watch. There's also sleep and laundry to tend to, but if I keep listing everything that needs to get done, I might instead make a list of what to pack so I can run away to live on an island beach, alone and without any of these many needs. 

But I know that on the island, after a few nights of good sleep, I'd be lonely. I can't imagine life without my son or my husband or this career that I've carved out for myself. I don't want to have to choose. Maybe if we could all live on the beach... 

And so realistically, here I am on this guest bed, hoping I can stand on my numb legs when the baby stirs. Weekends, nights, mornings - it doesn't matter what day of the week it is or what time it is. Every day offers some random hours to get something done in the few moments that present themselves. 

Each day also offers time to notice how our son arches his back to stretch and throws his arms up over his head, as if to celebrate a victory. And how he smiles when he sees one of us right there to welcome him to this new, beautiful day. 

Time

Visiting the National Cathedral for a sunset bell recital

My sense of time has completely changed. When we are rushing to refill the diaper bag so we can leave the house, time zooms by. When it is the middle of the night and the bambino is crying, time stands still. 

I find myself both trying to carve out time and making the best of available time. When the bambino starts to vocalize sounds that will become words one day, everything else is put on hold. When I have a few hours to work, I settle right into the project and try to be as efficient as possible. No more breaks scrolling through Facebook statuses if I need to get through a pile of grading. 

Or rather, I do the best that I can. That's all any of us can do, right? 

Speaking of which, I should run. Until next time!