I get introspective and analytical when I get pregnant. I think it's the knowledge of the huge change to come, the huge change of a new life, new baby. It's a good change. It's miraculous that it happens by all these thousands of tiny changes inside my own body. Baby3 is the size of a lentil bean this week...

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.

So my sister just started a blog, which I thoroughly enjoy reading. Her post today is especially thought-provoking. Here's a blip from that radar:

"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.

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Image Credit: IBABuzz.com.

It's Pulling Me In

Every time I go to the bookstore or library, I am drawn to those shelves. You know the ones. You've wandered there, too, trying not to appear too interested in how to organize your inner space or the three habits that will renew your vision.

Self-help is big. In a way, that's a good thing: at least we are admitting that we need help. We're taking a little time to think about why our lives are so busy, hectic, unfulfilled, absent of beauty. We're comparing a little more with the rest of the world, wondering if we might have lost some universal truths in the race for the American dream.

But the term "self-help" should warn us. We're still enamored of the do-it-yourself independence that got us into all these messes. We're not willing to change our "Quick, fix it so I can get back to work" mental rut. We cruise the self-help aisle and grab the title that's brightest and laid out in the simplest, bullet-point format. That way we can just skim the chapters, get the basics through the headings, and avoid all the time wasted on wading through those extraneous words. We'll be fixed and good as new by lunchtime.

Sound the "RRRRR, try again" buzzer. Read the rest of this entry »

Say "spiritual gifts" to your average church-goers and they will think "prophets" or "speaking in tongues" or "crazy pentecostals." They will say, "Oh, the spiritual gifts aren't for today," or "Yes, I operate in my gifting; I speak in tongues all the time" or "I don't know much about them."

Say "spiritual gifts" to your average non-church-goers and they will think "Huh?" (They will probably say that, too.) Read the rest of this entry »

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I need the van today, so I rode in with Joe. I was jumpy, ready to go, so I started radio-surfing for something fast and heavy. I found Miley Cyrus singing her little teenage heart out. Not heavy, okay, but the song has a great 80's beat and what woman among us didn't live through this at least ten times in adolescence: Read the rest of this entry »

I was in high school ten years ago. Ten years ago. This seems strange to me. High school was only yesterday. College was half an hour ago. And who are these kids and why do they keep calling me Mom?

Ha. Just a little humor there. Only Mara calls me Mom... Seriously, we all know two-month-old babies can't say Mom!

Ha, again. I'm feeling a bit "sarcastical" but not in a bitter, emo kind of way. More in a "I'm being sarcastic because the fact that I am an independent adult, let alone wife and mother of two young children, seems surreal and fabulously wonderful and overwhelming and I don't know what to do about it" kind of way.

I think I don't really do anything about it. I am it! And I love it. Sure, there are smelly diapers and not enough sleep, lots of responsibility and little free time, too many projects and not enough money, but the truth is this: I am living the life I want. I choose this life. I love this life. I want this life, every smelly, silly detail of it.

I am sarcastic because I am overwhelmed, but not by responsibility and negativity and general mental clutter. I am overwhelmed by those things sometimes, sure. Right now, though, I am overwhelmed with gratitude and awe that this life is mine to live with all its pain and challenge and sweetness.