I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock, as Steve kissed me good-bye. It was 5 am. He had to be in the city by 7 for a conference call with London.
I lay in bed going over the schedule for the day in my head. Then gave up trying to sleep and made a pot of coffee.
As I rushed to get Ian on the bus on time and urged him to swallow his "vitamin" instead of mixing it in with his apple juice, I hollered at Jonah to call the school nurse to tell her that he was going to be late for school. He had an 8:30 appointment with the dermatologist to deal with his plantar warts.
Then I got a text from the real estate agent saying that someone wanted to come by at 11:00.
I pleaded for an extra 15 minutes. I was in a doctor's office, I explained. She texted me back, "Life gets in the way."
The dermatologist looked at Jonah's big toe. "How long has he had these warts," she asked with an arched eye brow. Bad mother. I explained that he's had them for a few years. We've been trying to deal with them with some over the counter stuff, but the warts had laughed it off.
She beckoned me over to get a good look at his toe. "See how many there are? There is a cluster of them. They've been there so long that it's going to be hard to get rid of them. See those black dots? They have their own blood supply." Independent organisms on my kid.
Then she zapped him with a freezer gun. Half an hour later, he limped into school. I kissed him good-bye with a gallon of guilt.
I looked at clock. 9:45. I had an hour and 15 minutes to clean the house.
Four baskets of folded laundry, goldfish crumbs on the coffee table, a snowfall of couscous under Ian's chair, plates of waffle crusts, three unmade beds, toothpaste stains in the sink, a row of 34a's on the laundry line in the basement, shin guards in the hallway, a week's worth of papers, happy meal toys everywhere.
Finished with minutes to spare.
I'm hiding out in Starbucks eating the first food of the day- some 1,000 calorie piece of garbage- wondering if I am ever going to get my own work done.
In addition the hassles of selling a house in a real estate market that seems to have seized up like a rusty bicycle AND dramatically increasingly ian's after school therapies AND steve's new boy scout leader responsibilities, I've also been stealing a few minutes here and there to work on a book and a tentative small business.
Yesterday, I told Steve that I thought I was wasting my time. Yet two more huge projects with slim chances of success. Perhaps I shouldn't waste time on this stuff. Who needs to keep banging one's head against the wall? Perhaps it was better to have fun in life than to keep chasing the false promise of a fulfilling career. I could spend more time planning over the top parties, taking day trips to the museums in Manhattan, just lounging in a hammock chair in the backyard.
The trouble is that I want it all. I want the parties and the museums and the success and the paycheck and wart-free toes. Maybe that's too much to ask for.
(one finger iPad typing. Excuse typos)
Apt. 11d 
I want the parties and the museums and the success and the paycheck and wart-free toes.
I feel for you, Laura. Every day around here–just like probably nearly every day around nearly every aspiring middle-class household in America–it’s a constant, low-level battle: Can we spend money on that? Why am I wasting time on this? Is the yard more important than the bikes? Does Megan really need to see the back doctor? If we’re going to be driving across the country for the family reunion, shouldn’t we see this as well? Etc., etc., etc.
Good luck in juggling whatever you need to juggle, day by day. You’re better equipped to handle it than most.
(By the way, is Steve a Scoutmaster now, or what? I just became our congregation’s Cubmaster, so I’m having to relearn about Cub Scouts, 30 years since I last gave them any thought…)
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My daughter (same age as J) has been struggling with plantar warts, too. She’s decided to name them after various Roman territories conquering and being conquered and holding on against the assault of Mediplast.
(I admitted to her after her last appointment that this is why her social studies teacher loves her. I told the teacher that S will say her favorite subject is English, but all she ever talks about at home is social studies.)
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I hear ya. There are things I’ve just given up caring about, though I have moments of guilt. The yard, for one, but I congratulate myself that it looks neat even if it doesn’t look stunning. The neighbor’s down the street mow like once in a blue moon. Their house looks abandoned. I worry about home values even though we’re years away from selling. I still care about clothes, a little about the neatness inside my house. I still think I might be able to change the world someday. And I almost always feel like I’m failing my kids one way or another. It is what it is.
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I want it all, too.
And here’s the good news: investing your time and energy into TWO large projects that have a slim chance of success gives you better odds than investing your time and energy in ONE.
Here’s hoping they both take off.
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I so hear you. I’m on mat leave with a 5 month old, with a 6 year old soon to be on summer vacation, frantically trying to finish my experimental book, working my more traditional book and trying to stay in the loop professionally…while saving money and thinking what to do as my industry implodes.
And last weekend for some reason the earth caved in on one side of the house and we have to get a foundation guy in to tell us it’s ok and fill it in.
Fun times we live in. On the plus side, Harry Potter comes out soon. 🙂
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To assuage your plantar warts guilt – I had constant plantars warts my entire 6th grade year. My parents did everything right and proactively took me to the podiatrist weekly and mine still grew their own blood supply.(And were still really hard to get rid of, even with the fancy freezer gun.)
I quit the year-round swim team in 8th grade and never had a problem again. I still won’t go barefoot in any locker room. ever.
Good luck with the rest of it. If only they had a freezer-gun to deal with the things that suck our time away…
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In order to continue feeding the fantasy of “having it all”, I met with a coach this morning to get focused on the paid work side of life. Apparently I can still dream that it IS possible to have interesting/challenging work that does not consume a zillion hours a week.
Indulge me…okay?
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plates of waffle crusts
Making a few little things better at a time can add up. This is an easy one. Kids clear their own plates- it’s easy and a good rule for now, and the rest of their lives (especially if their future spouses don’t want to have to clear them!)
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“And here’s the good news: investing your time and energy into TWO large projects that have a slim chance of success gives you better odds than investing your time and energy in ONE.”
I suspect that that’s not true for actual huge big work projects. The same person shouldn’t both be in charge of a space shuttle launch and studying for doctoral comps. However, I think it’s more true of lots of little things. My grandma says, “If you want something done, ask a busy person,” and I think she’s right. My absolutely top-performing semester as an undergraduate was the one where I took a really heavy course load, and I think I had a similar experience my junior year in high school when I took my school’s only two AP classes at the same time. It’s sort of like wearing a therapeutic weighted vest–heavy, but also comfortable.
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I agree with Amy. My best times in life are when I was just on the edge of being too busy. My senior year in college was the first year I took a job off campus and took a full load. Because I had limited free time, I used it well. And I could still go out and have fun. When I’m staring down hours of unfilled time, I tend to waste it. Inertia or something.
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besides, if you had the free time at home, you might start doing the coupon-cutting thing.
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When I’m staring down hours of unfilled time, I tend to waste it. Inertia or something.
I suppose that’s why, even though I have much more free time during the summer, I’m actually more productive in terms of teaching prep and research stuff during the school year.
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“I suppose that’s why, even though I have much more free time during the summer, I’m actually more productive in terms of teaching prep and research stuff during the school year.”
My husband says he does better to have a little bit of teaching rather than a real sabbatical (apologies to anybody out there who would go on a three-state murder spree to get a real sabbatical).
This is my youngest’s first year in kindergarten, and I have similar time-management issues. However, everything that has to happen NOW does happen. It’s the less time-sensitive stuff (like getting into shape) that suffers.
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I’m really hoping that I can tread water professionally for another decade and then jump back in and do something fun and productive when we need to pay tuition.
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