5/27/07 - The business of being not-busy

It's almost midnight . . . why do I wait until it's so late at night to start these things? I like to think that I'm a productive person, but secretly I'm actually not. Let's see . . . what have I accomplished tonight? Laundry, no. Dishes, no. Cleaned house, no. Sat in front of computer with trail mix and soda, yes. Fiddled with ceramic tiles in kitchen to try and fit the odd shapes into just the right spot, yes. More time on the computer, yes. I have to face the music - maybe I'm not a productive person. Actually, I think that most days my productivity gets eaten away little by little, until there's just nothing left to work with. As I'm outside with Joshua, keeping guard against the fierce barrage of roly-polies and butterflies, I'm wishing I were inside wiping off the kitchen countertops. As I'm desperately trying to find something both quick and healthy to fix for dinner I'm actually wishing that I were soaking the socks in Oxy-Clean. Bathtime rolls around, and as Joshua and Jonah are being sudsed up, I'm thinking of the sheets that I haven't changed in, um, weeks. All that thinking of what I would like to be doing wears me out so, and then I don't have energy left to actually do those things.

It's also very possible that I'm missing out on enjoying my children because of my inability to just be in the moment. It's all very yoga-zen-taoish, I know, but as I recall the day, I wish I'd just relaxed - played a little more, laughed a little more, lived a little more. While all I did through the day was prepare for what came next, I was missing out on life all around me. It's so fleeting, this time that we have while the kids are little. We have no actual responsibilities, and can spend countless minutes snuggled on the couch, then dashing to the sandbox, back inside for that one special toy, and back out to play with the water hose. It's a flurry of passion and breathlessness, and it will be over before we know it.

Tim is a much better zen-master than I'll ever hope to be, which is good for the kids since they get a balance between the two of us. Tim takes them for a walk so that I can be deliriously task-happy. Tim and Joshua go to the park so that I can plan our meals for the week. The only moment that I'm great at being in (I hate to boast, but I would actually call myself an expert) is naptime. Not only because I really, really, really like to sleep, although that's a small part of it, but because I love to nap with Jonah. I can almost always get him to sleep during Joshua's naptime, by lying in bed and nursing him into oblivion. I remember it being the same with Joshua, both easier and more frequent since he was the only baby, the two of us napping together in bed, on the couch, in the papasan chair. Is there really anything more wonderful than a cuddly milk-drunk baby cradled in the hollow place of your arms, warm and squoshy and fast asleep? I think not.

So maybe there is a part of me that can embrace life with these kids as much as I embrace my trail mix and computer time. Maybe I can learn to sit outside and play without the burning desire to pull weeds or sweep the driveway. These tasks will always be around, but there is precious little time to enjoy the kids at this age. To marvel at Joshua's intellect and curiosity, and to breathe in the smell of Jonah's baby scalp. I know it gets easier, the older they both get . . . but I don't want to spend my days waiting for them to get older, all the while missing out on the here and now. Waiting for it to get easier, but forgetting to see the joy around us.

I'll keep working on it; and if I ever learn to stop and take a breath, I'll let you know.

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