Untitlable

So, that was a pretty crappy January, no?

You all know some of the stuff, but I doubt you all know all of it because, you know, I kind of quit writing when things get really bad. I figure, nobody loves a whiner and when I'm really depressed I need the LOVE.

The worst bit is, when all the crap comes down I start looking at my life and my choices with a more critical eye than normal. I would never consider myself an idealist, I'm not even an optimist--I'm a hard, cold realist with a heavy side of cynicism, but that's another story. Anyway, I did some depressing thinking about my life that last week of January and I found myself feeling small and unimportant and cowardly.

After all, if I was the brave, intelligent woman I like to fancy myself then wouldn't I be out there battling the lions of the world and knocking out a dissertation and adding more initials to my name? Wouldn't I be taking a public stand and making my name known (and FEARED)? Wouldn't I be doing anything else?

And then the heavens opened and a small, dusty ray of light shone down from Haven Kimmel's blog in this post. And then a week or so later I was knocked over with the giggles by this post from the Washington Post by way of the Lovely Katrina. And since they are helping to bring me and the Boy back into the civilized world, I thought I would share the methodology with you.

I am one of those pitiful people who measures my own worth based on the amount of "stuff" that I get done during the day. Every day I have a list of "stuff" that I want to get done and I take peevish delight in crossing things off of that list. I love the feeling of being able to say to the Husband when he comes home, "Look, honey! Look how much I got DONE." It gives me a sense of structure and purpose to the day but subconsciously I know what I'm really saying is, "Look, honey! I work too! I'm a team player!" (I would like to note here that the Husband has heard all of this before and he thinks I'm a little off my rocker with my need to prove myself, but that is also another post.)

The thing is, the Boy is never DONE. He's this on-going project that is just never anywhere near completion, which breeds its own discouragement. And when you're already discouraged from all the other crappy things piling up on you, it leads you to doubt why you made this choice to begin with.

But then you read what Haven Kimmel wrote about mothers (her own especially), about how foolish we are when we take our work lightly, about how we are raising the future in our own two hands, how these little beings are "our own best hope." And suddenly you look into a pair of big brown eyes, eyes that are just like mine but they see the world so differently, and suddenly you find yourself thinking--I don't have anything to get DONE because you, littlest man, you will never be DONE. He is my own best hope--if only I can teach him that his worth isn't measured by the things he crosses off of his To Do list, if only I can help him to be smart and brave and funny.

I often find myself at the end of the day wondering what happened. And nothing stands out--it was just a day. But then I read something like this:


When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything -- language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

And everything clicks into place. Oh yeah. That's what I did today. I kept the Boy fed and clean and well...only sort of rested. I managed to keep the toys sort of centrally located. I didn't kick the cats out of my way. There are a ton of dishes in the sink. And that load of laundry has been in the dryer for 2 DAYS now, but I spent 30 minutes just making the Boy laugh and that my friends, is an efficient use of time, it's my contribution to the team and I'm never going to cross it off of a list because it's not DONE.