Toddling Around
I'm starting over. Figuratively and literally. Not only am I a mom to a new 1-year-old (my daughter is completely different than my son at this age), I'm so totally not prepared for this work/writing/life somersault I am riding right now. So, I'm starting over. Learning new limits. Setting limits I never dreamed I would do before. And trying to remain calm and flexible (even when it seems impossible).
Case in point--today marks another soccer game for my son (we had one yesterday). He's got his damn asthma cough that surfaces with every cold he's ever congested. So, we're not going. That's right, the game is 8 minutes in already and my ass is in the chair in my office/bedroom while he plays with his sister on the floor down the hall. I felt guilty for an entire half hour and then realized, I've dealt with this asthma thing for 4 years. I know what my son's habitual sicknesses are like--and right now, he's on the fence. And so is this infection. Sure, he'd likely play a decent game of soccer, but next week, I'd spend 3 days at home with him giving routine breathing treatments and making sure he lays low. That would be his first (and then second and third) absence from school. Not making for a decent record in his first month of school. So, I made the choice, as a mother, to keep him from playing soccer.
Second example--this writing thing. I'd tried to schedule 2 hours of "away" time for today to go somewhere and write (or have The Husband take the children away from here so I could write). It's after 5 o'clock. I can guarantee you, that writing time won't happen. Am I disappointed? Sure. Always am, since my time always gets shifted because the lawn needs to be mowed, or we had errands to run, or because someone needs a computer fixed. But, in the end, I'll get that time back one way or another. It's called Baby Steps. If I keep getting angry or filling up with disappointment, when I *do* get to write? Well, I'll be spending the entire time virtually venting instead of writing the good stuff. So, I'm learning to let go. And start over. Here's my list of starting over endeavors:
- new book (the old one is stale. New projects get me charged up--so taking a cue, I'm starting anew)
- attempting to not eat out for 2 weeks. And if that works, well, we'll make it longer
- dropping half the soda I drink for water
- walking my son to school 3 out of the 5 days a week (right now I am at 2 days a week. The ones I don't work out of the office).
- letting go of the craziness of work. You know, leaving it at the office instead of at home
And hell, I am sure there are 15 more things I could add to this list. But overall, I'm trying not to get so worked up (and stressed out) over the small things. Taking it slow, steady, and calmly. Sorta like my daughter. When she doesn't desperately want something that is.
Case in point--today marks another soccer game for my son (we had one yesterday). He's got his damn asthma cough that surfaces with every cold he's ever congested. So, we're not going. That's right, the game is 8 minutes in already and my ass is in the chair in my office/bedroom while he plays with his sister on the floor down the hall. I felt guilty for an entire half hour and then realized, I've dealt with this asthma thing for 4 years. I know what my son's habitual sicknesses are like--and right now, he's on the fence. And so is this infection. Sure, he'd likely play a decent game of soccer, but next week, I'd spend 3 days at home with him giving routine breathing treatments and making sure he lays low. That would be his first (and then second and third) absence from school. Not making for a decent record in his first month of school. So, I made the choice, as a mother, to keep him from playing soccer.
Second example--this writing thing. I'd tried to schedule 2 hours of "away" time for today to go somewhere and write (or have The Husband take the children away from here so I could write). It's after 5 o'clock. I can guarantee you, that writing time won't happen. Am I disappointed? Sure. Always am, since my time always gets shifted because the lawn needs to be mowed, or we had errands to run, or because someone needs a computer fixed. But, in the end, I'll get that time back one way or another. It's called Baby Steps. If I keep getting angry or filling up with disappointment, when I *do* get to write? Well, I'll be spending the entire time virtually venting instead of writing the good stuff. So, I'm learning to let go. And start over. Here's my list of starting over endeavors:
- new book (the old one is stale. New projects get me charged up--so taking a cue, I'm starting anew)
- attempting to not eat out for 2 weeks. And if that works, well, we'll make it longer
- dropping half the soda I drink for water
- walking my son to school 3 out of the 5 days a week (right now I am at 2 days a week. The ones I don't work out of the office).
- letting go of the craziness of work. You know, leaving it at the office instead of at home
And hell, I am sure there are 15 more things I could add to this list. But overall, I'm trying not to get so worked up (and stressed out) over the small things. Taking it slow, steady, and calmly. Sorta like my daughter. When she doesn't desperately want something that is.
