Run faster! Or not.

Mosiah 4:27:And see that all these things are done in wisdom and ^aorder; for it is not requisite that a man should run ^bfaster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.


Of course this scripture doesn't apply to me, and probably not to you.  We have too much to do. Clearly this scripture was written before the 24-hour stresses of daily modern life evolved and now literally demand that we run, process and accomplish tasks as fast as our computers can—the robots set the pace. What I'm sure the scripture meant was, Do not run faster than the strength:

1. you wish you had
2. you once had, ten, twenty or thirty years ago.
3. you think you should have if only you would try harder
4. you imagine everyone else has
5. you would have if you had less stress and enough money
6. you had in that one instant where you were your strongest ever
7. your kids have
8. your delusional supermom fantasies lead you to believe you have
9. all those inspirational famous people appear to have
10. the robots.

This past week, during a little informal dieting support group I attend, I was told by others that I needed to slow down, take an occasional break, and maybe let up on some of the pressures I put on myself.  It was even suggested that I stop stressing about diet stuff altogether for a little while. My knee-jerk response to this was to wave it off.  I've done lots of things at once, I'm a veteran multi-tasker. After the past ten years of almost constant chaos, upheaval and stress, I can now look death in the face and laugh. Hah!

Plus, if I slowed down, it's possible that any burdens I took off myself would simply be replaced by the guilt of doing so. So, why bother?

But after more thought, I realized that, although trials do make us stronger, I'm at a weak point right now. I get tired, emotionally and physically, more often at this moment in my life, for whatever reason. Perhaps I did need to readjust my expectations. I don't think my schedule is that busy right now, honestly it feels like most of the pressure is actually coming from inside my own head (be better, faster, stronger!), but let's take a look.

My list probably looks a lot like most people's in my stage of life.  If I do everything I'm supposed to do in a day, it looks like this:

• Feed people (3x)
• Dishes
• Laundry
• Daily job (M-Kitchen, T-Bathrooms, W-Living Areas, H-Bedrooms, F-Van/yard)
• Scriptures (usually done by audio while multitasking)
• Check Bills/finances
• Prayer (2x+) (usually in the shower--multitasking again)
• Track/plan food
• Kid shuffling: Homework, chores, piano practice, Activity Days, scouts, piano, tae kwon do
• Music Practice: voice (U admission auditions 2/27), learn UCA music, piano proficiency exam prep, children's choir prep
• Exercise
• Kid love: Cuddle and talk with kids, not about homework, chores or piano 
• Husband time 
• Service (VT, temple, trying to listen to the Spirit about who/what needs me, etc.)
• Try to make some money 
• Journal/Write
• Quiet meditation (Hah. This generally doubles as "sleep.")

No surprise, I don't often get to the things toward the bottom of the daily list, the things that make me and my family more happy, sane and less stressed financially.  When I focus on the business of home and family and getting the absolute necessities taken care of, when I finally get to my own shower and am ready to at last get to work on the rest, it's about 11:30 p.m. and I crash. 

Also, if my mind just revolts, and I sit down to rest or think in a quiet place for a minute, which is happening involuntarily more and more these days, there is always something that theoretically should be filling that time. No vacancies in the schedule allowed.

  

I know this is almost a universal problem with women in my place in life. I know we are supposed to simplify, yet my family and home need almost constant attention, I've felt direction from the Lord on the path I'm taking  with music even though that takes time. I just can't see quite where I'm supposed to cut.

Then again, what's not on my list, but takes a ton of my time and mental energy, is fruitless, tail-chasing anxiety, wall-staring panic, and Tetris-playing despair. Somehow, I never book enough time in the day to allow for these time hogs.

President Uchdorf said on this great talk on the subject: 

Let’s be honest; it’s rather easy to be busy. We all can think up a list of tasks that will overwhelm our schedules. Some might even think that their self-worth depends on the length of their to-do list. They flood the open spaces in their time with lists of meetings and minutia—even during times of stress and fatigue. Because they unnecessarily complicate their lives, they often feel increased frustration, diminished joy, and too little sense of meaning in their lives. 

It is said that any virtue when taken to an extreme can become a vice. Overscheduling our days would certainly qualify for this. There comes a point where milestones can become millstones and ambitions, albatrosses around our necks...

...My dear brothers and sisters, we would do well to slow down a little, proceed at the optimum speed for our circumstances, focus on the significant, lift up our eyes, and truly see the things that matter most. Let us be mindful of the foundational precepts our Heavenly Father has given to His children that will establish the basis of a rich and fruitful mortal life with promises of eternal happiness.

In that same talk, President Uchdorf said that our relationships with God, our family, our fellowman, and ourselves, are the top priorities. The first task of the first priority, our relationship with God, was, in fact, quiet meditation, the neglected item at the bottom of my list:

Quietly focusing on daily personal prayer and scripture study...these will be some wise investments of our time and efforts to draw closer to our Heavenly Father. Let us heed the invitation in Psalms: “Be still, and know that I am God.” 

So, as I approach these last two husbandless weeks of bar prep and stress, I am going to make a commitment to myself to a sort of mental/spiritual/physical refocus, not with a longer to-do list, but by making the last first, beginning each day with quiet prayer and study to get inspiration for the day. Maybe that would help me minimize the unscheduled time-hogs (anxiety, panic, despair) by replacing all that paralyzing fear with some faith.  And I think I'll put some kid love time before the kid shuffling time each day.

The Creator of the universe manages everything in order and love, so it only makes sense that as I face my own to-do list each morning, that I consult with Him first. 

Goodbye, Aunt Val

Of course the summer was fun.  How could it not be, jam-packed with field trips, hikes, camp outs and road trips galore, all in the name of "wholesome family recreation."  But some honest introspection as August rolled inevitably on revealed (again) the true motive behind all my MEPAF, POCHAF, "everybody-in-the-car" tendencies--good old fashioned avoidance of my parental responsibilities.

Because when we're out entertaining ourselves, mom Val gives way to fun, carefree Aunt Val--the one that spoils you and takes you cool places and buys (and eats) too many treats and is SO much nicer than that scary, screaming lady back at home.  And why shouldn't she be nice?  There are no dishes to wash, no food to prepare, thanks to the food that so easily flows through the window of the car.  No chore enforcement, no refereeing the constant fights that blow up between under-occupied children.

And you can tell me that's what summer is for, but it all points to something much deeper, because as nights get crisper and schedules and budgets tighten for fall, I feel like cattle out to pasture slowly being nipped, whipped and "Ki-yayed" back into the corral.  And, instead of longing for the comforts of home, I find myself absent-mindedly browsing for jobs (against my own very recent advice).

But no, I really do know better, deep down, and firmly renewed my focus running up to school starting this week.

I prayed, I pondered, I rededicated myself to scripture study, and tried to seek guidance as I prepared the schedule and figured out how to focus myself.  Life presents so many things to do, so many things I want to try and be and see and learn.  And, just a couple years away from completing four decades, I'm only now realizing I won't, can't, shouldn't, couldn't try/be/see/learn it all.  (For years I've resented the sentiment terribly when the kids listen to Lion King and she sings, "There's more to see than can ever be seen, More to do than can ever be done." Oh, shut up--I CAN have it all!)

And of course, half the time all I want to do is nothing anyway, so that really cuts into my options, too.

In the end (still cringing about it) I'm going to end up doing much less than I wanted/planned/hoped, or probably even should, do.

In determining a plan, I finally came to terms with the fact that I'm useless at night and must quit scheduling tasks, especially work and writing, after the kids go down.  The only time I can pull off anything worth reading  that late is when money and a potentially PO'd boss is in the picture.  I am not a morning person, but I also believe that's no reason not to get up early, it just needs to be done.  So there's that.

The strongest, most surprising impression I received in putting together simplified the whole process greatly--and the message was this: ONLY home and family from after school until the kids are in bed.  No multitasking, no computer (except bills and family management--accomplishing things, not browsing or dreaming or house hunting), no outlining work projects in my head, no distractions or preoccupations.  I can run errands, clean, plan, help with homework, piano practice, have the chats that never happen when I'm holed up in my "office" (bed) with my secret crush (laptop).  The people in my house come first.

The fabulous article on slowing down in the Ensign in June 2010 helped inspire this, and I got a great blessing along with the kids right before school started which has helped as well.

So, we're finishing up day two of this concept, and wow, it is a lot easier in many ways.  With all those hours, the house is cleaner, the busywork life management checklist is much slimmed down, everyone is fed regularly and more healthfully, fights are stopped before they start, chores are done right and more quickly (who knew just a little supervision would do so much!), kids are guardedly excited about the actual parenting they are receiving, David is more productive in his work, there is time for the scriptures, prayers, etc., and honestly, everything that matters is getting done like never before.

But more importantly, and surprisingly, my life is easier than it was.  I sit down more.  I look out the windows sometimes.  Before, when I let the hours between 12-8 be a free-for-all, I mainly just ran in a circle, not knowing where to start, but resenting anything and everyone that kept me from doing anything and everything else.  Resenting that I was always being pulled away from something, not sure what it was, but sure it was "important."

I don't feel like I'm failing for the first time in what seems like forever.

Granted, it's the end of day two, I'm very tired adjusting to the new wake up time, but I have yet to see a downside (that will probably come when I put in my almost non-existent hours this next pay period).  What a novel idea to actually just attend to my home and family for the majority of my day.

I know to many of my friends this is an absurd discovery, and you've been doing it forever, but sympathize with a slow learner, will you?   It takes me time to realize, accept, and then relearn that my primary role is not a nanny, a marketer, an observer, living like that "I'm a waiter but really I'm an actor" cliche character in the movies: "I'm a mother but really I'm a moneymaker/writer/diva whatever."  And I may never be rich or thin, and maybe when I'm old I'll resent having spent so much of my life "kicking against the pricks" on those two time hogs.

It's time to say goodbye to Aunt Val, slow down, and be just a mother.

Coming Home

I promised myself that when I finally left the workplace to come back home I'd write myself a letter to remember why it was a good thing.  It's so tempting to get back into the noise and mess and wonder why I left the quiet pleasantness and good friends for this chaos. 

It's a sad reality, but I am much better at writing marketing plans than I am mothering and taking care of a house.  (This is why I admire you so much, Carrie.)  I'm not a natural mother--I love my children fiercely, but I don't "get" children in that way some nurturing types do.  Maybe it was my upbringing as an only child and mostly single mother that made me think child rearing would be a lot quieter, and, well, a lot less childish.  It's no secret that being home is much harder work physically, emotionally and spiritually than being at the office. 

It sounds like I'm writing the reasons to not stay at home, but I think it's just the opposite.

There is no wisdom in thinking the path of least resistance is the easiest path, but there is much evidence to the contrary.  There's a great saying used a lot in my Weight Watchers meeting: "Choose your hard."  Being fat is hard, dieting is hard.  Choose the hard you'd rather do. 

As hard as it is to be with the kids, being away from the kids is hard.  For me, it was impossible to work without shutting off some of the little maternal instinct I have. I wasn't parenting the way I had always meant to parent (I know, who does?)

Part of it is probably just my personal psyche--I have a hard time multitasking and shifting gears.  When I'm working my brain stays at work and I have a hard time fully focusing on my home and family.  After being home for a vacation or a long weekend, the reverse is true.  And maybe some moms can shift gears faster and better. 

But for me, I felt unable to prevent compromise on what I wanted my children to be doing and the habits I wanted them to be taught.  And, despite so much argument to the contrary, my children were clearly worse off without even my lame guidance--not just because they pined for me, but because they were left with less guidance and teaching than they needed.  I can see that there was some independence gained, but overall, it wasn't an ideal situation for them.

Just one day home makes it clear how many teaching opportunities come up in a single day--from the gospel to occupational tasks to civics and government back to more gospel principles.  And the complexity and intensity of the forces facing our children as they come of age is mind-boggling—every lesson they can get will be sorely needed.

Yet another set of lessons lost are the ones they teach me--how to master myself, how to control my words, how to not be a huge hypocrite, how to run a household--how to pray into my life the charity I need to accomplish what I came here to earth to do in the first place. 

And not just self-discipline, but the accidental lessons learned while watching and listening to my children. Their little spirits just amaze me--and there's no saying that just because I got here 30 years earlier I am so much wiser. (Yet, even with this knowledge, I'm perfectly willing to practice the grown-up double standard far too often.)

Also, in the past week at home, even though I've been working more than I ever did at the office, I've been able to hear so many great conversations that have helped my love for my children grow in a way that makes it easier to be a parent.  It's difficult when we only see each other tired and cranky at the end of the day to build what has so quickly begun to regenerate after only two weeks.

I've learned that when Noah refers to any extreme of distance he will use the word "tippy"—as in, "the very tippy bottom," the "tippy back of the shelf."  Ben and Sophie both need hugs and physical attention every day, several times a day, to help him feel grounded and safe, and I hadn't noticed that.  Lucy has a rare but hysterical giggle. 

Yesterday in the car, Sophie, Noah and Lucy were planning how they were going to play in the backyard playhouse when they got home--who wanted to be the mom, the baby, and the mayor, and that the mayor had dibs on the stroller this time.  Obviously all of these roles are critical when playing house.  It made me laugh--and sadly, I don't often laugh with my kids.

Working for those two years was not a mistake--I was led to that decision and led to that fantastic job and we were able to quickly solve some difficult problems, but the moment it was time to come home, I felt it. 

When your time is spent primarily on any one thing, things that interfere with that primary focus are distractions, a nuisance, and a frustration.  When your life is work, other personal projects (a blog!) or even an obsession with a personal problem, the children become the bother.  I wrote a whole essay about this some time ago, but how can I can be expected to actually remember past life lessons more than five minutes?

At the same time, I have a very hard time just sitting down and staring at my children or doing kid things.  I didn't do a lot of being a kid as a kid, so it feels very forced. However, even with my motherhood-impaired temperament, what I learned when we first moved to our little "farm" is that the slower, "old-fashioned" life can be lived alongside children rather than in spite of them, that I can enjoy what I'm doing and my children at the same time while teaching them important things.

I'm anxious to return to—and re-learn—that life, and spend less time actively teaching myself the latest marketing strategies and more time passively letting life (the Lord) teach me.  Everything is so full of lessons.

So, future self, when you want to run to the quiet safety of an office, run to the garden, kids in tow, and let the chaos escape into the open air.