Changing Expectations

This raising a little person thing is tough. It is tough in ways I hadn't anticipated. Time. Time management has never been my strength. I know it. I am not an organizer by nature. It was something that I fought in my former life as a teacher, where life runs by the second hand and being late is just not an option. And the paper... oh how I hated the piles of paper.... and still hate them. But in the tradition of yin and yang, the flip side of this is I was completely able to be spontaneous. I was ready for action on a minute's notice. I could drive across the state and back. I always had a bag packed... or not... and I could make it all work. I continued this through pregnancy, although admittedly, loading and unloading the car 9 months pregnant in the August heat was no charm. But I did it.

Now, my weakness is glaringly apparent. I can love this little being. I feed her. I snuggle with her. I make her things. I hold her when she cries. I change her diapers. I still travel for work and I am fortunate to be able to work with my daughter every day.... if that is possible.... but man, do I work slowly. I load and unload the car one-handed, sometimes on 3-4 interrupted hours of sleep. I try to keep up with the paper load, as always, but it accumulates faster than I can beat it down. My laundry pile looks much the same. I am tired. I am always hungry. My little mite is not a sleeper. She is constantly on the move... no surprise.  She isn't much of a napper. She has good nights and bad ones... especially now that she is teething. Except that she will sleep in the car, so there are days when I know she is tired that I will drive 10 miles out of my way to use the drive-through bank teller, just so she can sleep a little longer.

My work happens at a snail's pace. I get one real project done a day. That is my goal. Sometimes it is half of a project and sometimes a project and a half. I love this life, but the most difficult part has been to change the expectations I have of myself, and forgive myself for my lack of "productivity." I could devise a million ways to ignore my daughter to get my work done, but then I miss out on this amazing little life and all that she has to offer me. I want to be what my mother wasn't.... present & listening.