So I am thinking about what I want most in life. It’s an easy list to make.

• as much time as I can get with my husband
• healthy, happy, creative, well-trained children
• organized, comfortable, hospitable home
• creative, fulfilling work/ministry like writing & worship, with growth and progress

Simple. Short list. But lofty goals. These goals require a lot of work. Daily, steady work, discipline, and sometimes intense effort.

All of which would be no problem if I weren’t lazy…

But I am.

Holidays and weekends get me, especially, because I want to sleep late, sit around, have uninterrupted hours to do all the things I don’t have time for… Instead I find that, strangely enough, even on weekends and holidays I am still the wife, mom, and the one in charge of running the house.

(Why didn’t anybody tell me about this “no days off” clause? Where was that in the fine print?)

So I’m still making meals, wiping noses, giving baths, giving instructions, cleaning up messes, enforcing the rules, trying to remember what the rules are, folding the laundry, sweeping the floor… And resenting it because, darn it, no matter how much I try to pretend that I am a naturally industrious, organized, perfect person, I’m not.

I’m a naturally lazy, disorganized, procrastinating, distracted, selfish person. Which means that this ongoing work of wife, mom, homemaker, writer, worshiper is going to require something like a complete transformation.

Ech. That sounds like a lot of work.

“Whatever you do, do it with all your might –Work at it, if necessary, early and late, in season and out of season, not leaving a stone unturned, and never deferring for a single hour that which can be done just as well now. The old proverb is full of truth and meaning, “Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well.” Many a man acquires a fortune by doing his business thoroughly, while his neighbor remains poor for life, because he only half does it. Ambition, energy, industry, perseverance, are indispensable requisites for success in business.”
-P.T. Barnum

When Annie asked me to write this post, I was excited.  Modern Housekeeping – what an interesting topic!  This should be fun to write about.  I feature myself as a Modern Housekeeper with a traditional bent.  However, as I began to collect my thoughts and actually put them down on paper (yes, I still write on paper!), so many thoughts and ideas ran through my head.  Which direction should I go?

Do I write about how I keep a home?  My housekeeping schedules that are set up for a task a day?  The morning and bedtime routines my kids and I have to keep us on task (and so no one forgets to brush their teeth)?

My ideas on what makes a house a home?  Is it love, laughter, good snacks?

Do I write about how I never thought I would be a SAHM and had a grand plan of a successful career before I had children?  How I thought I had to make a difference in the world before I realized I needed to make a difference in my family?

Would readers want to hear about how I home school my daughter so she can be shaped and molded by her parents and carefully chosen others and not her 9 year old peers?

Should I write about how planning my meal each week saves my family and me time, money and stress?

How about disciplining children with love, yet effectively enough to keep them from misbehaving again?  OK.  I don’t know how to pull that off yet, but if you can, let me know!  SOON!!

Do I write about how it is difficult sometimes to balance family life and blogging?

Keeping a home in this day and age is a challenge.  There is so much to consider and to balance.   We are pulled in so many directions and often inaccurately feel we need to be perfect in each area!  For such a modern, convenient society, modern housekeeping is just plain hard!  And apparently so is writing about it!

Today’s 2 Cents Courtesy of…

Marci: encourager, blogger, wife, mom, woman who strives to eliminate the busy and pursue the meaningful. She helps others do the same with her practical wisdom on organizing and simplifying and her regular features like menu plans and an Article Club. I’ve gained from her blog inspiration to change for the better, and practical tips on how to do it. Head on over to Overcoming Busy to learn more about (and from) this gracious woman.

What’s your 2 cents?

The Audacity of Passion

There is so much audacity in putting words on paper and assuming any of them are worthwhile. And it’s no good saying, “Well if only one person is helped by what I write then it is worth it…” That’s a lovely, noble albeit impractical thought and to it I say it better be some person to keep me waking up at 4 a.m. to scribble things down and that person must need a lot of help.

I hope it is crowds of people and thousands of copies and yes, large sums of money. Because money is a sign of value, and if I am to find a decent value in the time I’ve put in it will take a lot of money.

But that might not happen.

And I’ll write anyway, though heartsick at times for a word of praise, a paid job, a recognition, acceptance, affirmation.

That’s not why I write, though, because if it were I’d have stopped long ago and just focused on something like gardening or having babies, both of which seem to be far more productive. I might have a genuine knack for the baby thing…

Balance Is a Myth

Life is always happening. I have to choose my part in it.
Balance is a myth, I think, one we should reject summarily. Great and genius people, those who change what is, are never great examples of balance. They are, most often, the worst at it, because greatness, genius, and passion require more dedication than a “balanced life” can give. Balance is for the consumer, not the creator.

Give Up False Desires

We need to determine what gives us the most pleasure at a level beyond the distracted, flesh-driven, easy answer. We all have superfluous interests, things that are not bad but that don’t reach the very core of who we are. They deceive us, like thinking we’re hungry for food when really we need a long drink of good water.

They are temporary desires, circumstantial, arbitrary, and the result is a befuddled mind and satiation without satisfaction. I don’t think any of us were meant to be consumers only, as the definition of our life. How many hobbies, interests, so-called passions are based on consuming rather than on creating, giving, being, producing?

We need to find the true passions and then guiltlessly, freely, unhesitatingly get rid of the extraneous. Downsize, downplay, eliminate or simplify everything else. Why not focus on what matters most? Isn’t it really absurd to do anything else?

Sacrificing for Your Passion

I have stumbled across a few truths and one of them is that there is no such thing as a perfect life, a perfectly balanced life, or really even a simple life. Certain sacrifices must be made in order to pursue anything you’re passionate about.

Writing I am passionate about, but that’s not all. I’m also passionate about truth and about books, both of which mix very handily with my writing habit. I’m also passionate about my husband and children and the love I want to give them. That – family, its demands and rewards – does not mix handily with writing. But what of it? Neither passion is negated or even lessened in the slightest by the other.

Sure, there is plenty of side-sorting to do through the age-old things like guilt and resentment and lack of time. But none of those things are new or unique to my situation.

Avoiding Guilt and Resentment

We are a people who are capable of seeing our own imperfections, and we’ll always find something to feel guilty or resentful about just to avoid the real causes:

• We feel guilty for not living up to the perfection we know (instinctively) and crave, and simultaneously
• We feel resentful of carrying this instinct, this knowledge and burden of the perfect while being unable to reach it.

We would do ourselves a favor, release ourselves to be something worthwhile, if we would release this urge for balance and perfection and turn our energy instead toward our passions. Perfectionism just results in creative frustration. The pursuit of balance – mythical, unattainable, magical, immeasurable balance – results in creative paralysis.

Our lives will find their own natural rhythm if we quit worrying about an artificial balance and start living in time with our heartbeat.

Images
1. “The Light” courtesy of Jody McNary Photography on Flickr.

So the introspective part is the stuff that we all hit when things get wierd or overwhelming or just when we take time to think. Am I spending my time on the right stuff? Have I lost my priorities? Why do I feel hungry all the time? (Oh, wait, sorry, that’s not introspective, that’s just early pregnancy talking…).

You know? I start looking at my goals, the way I spend my time, the things I’m accomplishing, or not accomplishing. For the last five months or so I’ve been working on my freelance writing. I wish I had more to show for it, but it’s a slow burn at first. I can feel several different things building momentum, though. It takes time to establish credibility in the freelance world, but once you do, doors open more quickly to jobs that offer more than $3/article. (Just an aside that $3/article is a barbaric amount of money to offer a living human being. Now $5/article…)

Okay. So I’ve been spending lots of time on writing and things related to writing. The household, and all that pertains to said household, has merely survived during this time. I’ve done no major projects. I’ve cooked just enough to keep us alive, and we’ve still eaten fast food more than I will ever admit. I’ve done the minimum cleaning and ignored the mildewy corners in the bathroom and the spiderwebs on the ceiling. And we’ve been okay, but I’m starting to get a little bit tired of “the minimum.”

Yesterday morning I spend a couple of hours scrubbing the bathroom. Scrubbing. Hands and knees on the floor, scrubbing. I ran a tub of soapy water and washed the garbage cans, a potty chair, and a booster seat. I took down the shower curtain liner to wash it. I scraped around the faucet and shined the sink. Then I moved on to the kitchen.

And it felt good. I felt refreshed and energized. I’d gotten further behind in what I intended to do in writing that day, and today I worked in the yard instead of catching up. But all the pregnancy-prompted internalizing has led me to a simple conclusion: my life just needs a little more balance. I’d gotten pretty heavy on the “reading, writing, computer” side of the equation and pretty light on the “cleaning, physical, working outside, cooking, creative” side of the equation. As you can tell, I counteract the imbalance by swinging far to the other side for a bit. Now I will start work on making it even out on a regular basis, which probably means some days where I do nothing but sudsy scrubby cleany things and some days where I read and write and stare at the computer and eat fast food for dinner.

I love life. Change is not to be feared. It brings us to better versions of ourselves.

“I’m talking about that fine line between being a wife, a mother and not losing who you are as a person. It is far to easy to disappear in the daily routine. The endless parade of dirty mouths, hands, and bottoms that need to be wiped. Sippy cups that need to be filled, beds to be made, floors to clean, meals to cook, and before I know it the day is over and I haven’t taken 5 minutes for myself. And I begin to feel invisible. That I’m not seen for me, but rather for what I do. It’s not easy to find time for yourself.”

Ow. Yeah. That’s me on a lot of days. And then what else do I do? I decide, I need to do something for myself, something beyond Mommy duty (which we all love, yes, but which is not the sum of our being). So I start, oh, fifteen enormous projects. A freelance writing career. A business with my husband. A basement remodel.

And then I wonder why I’m not more relaxed.

Will I ever learn? I like working so much that I just keep piling on more work until I begin to hate work because I am overwhelmed by it. I’m missing a balance that I desperately crave, and so to find it I pile more on my list: get organized, de-clutter, buy a new planner, go through my notes, get some budgeting software, clean out my closet. Yeah, that helps a lot.

A friend from church, Fritzi, is a time management consultant. I was reading an article on her site about finding time for your husband, and this bit just  struck me:

“It grieves me to see mothers frazzled, disorganized, frustrated, and defeated when the Lord wants to make our burdens light and give us order, grace and dignity in our lives for His glory. If this typifies one’s life style and mode of operation, something is out of balance and they are carrying burdens the Lord did not call them to take upon themselves.”

Hmm. “Carrying burdens the Lord did not call them to take upon themselves.” Burdens like being the perfect mother, perfect wife, perfect sister, perfect daughter, perfect friend, perfect entrepreneur, perfect writer. At this point I’d just settle for pretty good mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, entrepreneur, writer. It seems impossible, though, to get it all happening at the same time. If I focus and start feeling like I’m making progress in one area, I give myself a little nod of congratulations and then realize I’ve neglected something just as important. Do you do that?  I start feeling really good about spending time with my husband, talking, actually having a date… and then I realize I haven’t called my best friend, emailed my Dad, or spent much time with the kids all week. So the next week I am on it: I’m calling, I’m emailing, I’m playing, and at the end of the day I realize I’ve gotten no work done, I’ve written nothing, and I’m way behind.

So what’s the answer? How do I find balance? How do I set these priorities? How do I find time for myself? How do I pursue my interests and keep the household functioning? What’s most important right now: husband? kids? friends? family? work? This is why people get Prozac. (Just an aside: I heard on the radio that there are about 350,000 dogs on Prozac in the U.S. I really don’t know what to say to that, except… it’s the end of the world as we know it.)

Here’s what my sister says (and I think it’s smart):

“So how do you balance the demands of motherhood, being a wife and being a person? Take 10! that’s my motto. I had to learn how to think smaller. …I’m learning to take 10 minutes here and there for myself. It may be simply to be in a room alone.”

Here’s what Fritzi says (and I think it’s smart):

    “Set some time aside, like it is an appointment you must keep, and get away for an hour or so to spend time making a list of what you believe God has called you to do and what you perceive could be eliminated from your weekly schedule of events. …Schedule time weekly to plan your week’s work and extra activities and then scale down from there.”

I’m already thinking of some obligations I need to eliminate. Most of them are self-imposed. It’s not other people who want too much of me, it’s me who wants too much of me. As much as I wish I could blame somebody else when my day is too full and my life is too stressed, it comes back down to my decisions. Those not-very-smart ones.

A good friend told me some years ago that every Yes means a No. If she says Yes to something that takes her away from her home and family, she is saying No to being with her children or taking care of her home. Sometimes that’s necessary and good. Domestic life is not the sole purpose of our existence, people, and we do need to realize that. If I say yes to every organizing, decorating, child-training, cooking idea I come up with, well, I’ll have to say a big no to everything else. That’s not balance.

This afternoon, instead of trying to smash my way through a list that’s far too long, I’m going to take some good advice. I’m going to take ten, and then I’m going to think about what I can eliminate. I don’t want the best to be consumed by the good. I don’t want the tyranny of the urgent to obfuscate the important. I don’t want to be invisible.

———–

Image Credit: IBABuzz.com.

Some days I’m clear. I’m set. I’m confident. Other days I think I must be ruining my children, damaging their psyches, sending them unalterable signals that will make them question my love. I comfort myself in these times by thinking back to my own childhood and realizing how much I don’t remember.

I don’t remember ever feeling unloved, even though my Mom was busy, over the years heading up local and state organizations and running a variety of small business ventures. Sometimes my questions had to wait because she was on a phone call. Sometimes we spent Saturday afternoon helping her stuff mailers for a state-wide convention.

I don’t remember every feeling neglected, though we ate out-of-the-freezer fish sticks or chicken pot pies or canned tomato soup for lunch many days. I don’t remember feeling unimportant, even when Mom was too busy for an hour of coloring with me.

What I do remember gives me a clue for my own life. I remember a busy, happy Mom with plates spinning and heart racing, who enjoyed the adventure of keeping it all together, who relished both the adrenaline and the relaxation. Sure, she messed up on some stuff. She probably made bad decisions sometimes. Maybe there were even entire weeks when she was just off balance on key areas of life. But I didn’t know that then, and I can’t feel any negative effects from it now.

That’s what I think about as I wipe the cracker crumbs off my daughter’s hands and off my laptop. My son gurgles at me from the floor and continues to chew on the book corner. Their childhood won’t be perfect, but that’s okay. They won’t remember it wasn’t perfect; they’ll remember that I was here, with a whole lot of imperfect love.