“You guys are so busy. You’re always doing something. How do you keep up with it all”?
I don’t. And here’s a secret: none of us do.
I say “no” pretty ruthlessly, to adding things to our life. Just ask Matt, my sweet husband. He and I have very different thought processes regarding getting to a goal. He starts at the endgame and works his way backward: “Wouldn’t it be awesome to own an outdoor gear store/jiu-jitsu gym/blacksmithing shop,” etc., while I start pulling back on the reigns, thinking of the hundreds of considerations and steps that need to be made before we become small business millionaires. I often have to stop myself from an immediate compulsion to give a head shake and a “Nope” and reconsider something that could eventually be fun and rewarding.
There are some real-life challenges of being committed to living an integrated life as a professional, a parent, a friend, and an individual with our own interests. We all have people in our lives who seemingly have it all figured out. Their houses always appear impeccably clean, they prep meals every weekend, keeping gardens lush and bountiful, and their daughters’ hair is always styled with cute accessories, while my skills are strictly limited to ponytails.
The reality is that no one checks all of these boxes all the time. It just seems that way. Most days, we’re just trying to remember to put our overflowing garbage cans out on the curb for pick-up day and make sure everyone is fed decently, including ourselves. Some days, that’s the mark of success.
The truth is, when you’re trying to get everything right, you’re getting nothing right. No one has everything, though we can have just enough to keep us grateful. Life is one big trade-off.
Anyone who wants some quiet personal and reflection time in the morning before the day gets out of hand, especially parents, will tell you they set the alarm earlier than ever. To get that uninterrupted cup of coffee in silence, a workout while catching up on a podcast, or any other prep for the day.
When my daughter, Rory, moved out of the confines of a crib to a big girl bed last year, we (attempted) to set up some boundaries as to when she could get out of bed in the morning. She’s got a night light that changes colors, so we made some rules as to what she can do depending on the color of the light. Think red, yellow, and green like a stoplight … I’m sure some of you parents reading this did something similar. The novelty lasted a few months until she realized Mommy was up before her and, like any 4-year-old, got a serious case of FOMO and could care less about Mom’s expectations for alone time. When she came out of her room, I was doing my daily mobility exercises in the garage with my foam roller and other torture devices that inevitably became toys for her, the garage a playground.
These are the moments I realize that all my good intentions and solid leadership communication—setting boundaries, the big girl talks, and the killer night light—mean as little to her as the importance of the quiet time I’ve sacrificed 30 minutes of precious sleep for. My irritation sets in, though I cannot ignore how endearing her bid for connection is. She just wants to spend time with me. I am fully aware the day is coming when she will not want to at all, and I’ll be the one stalking her for quality time and irritating her. That’s when the Mom guilt sets in.
I get to choose in those moments to hip-fire a head shake and a “nope” to my daughter or to pause, take a deep breath (as I teach her to), rethink that “no,” and consider its impact, as I do with Matt. I’m not trying to squelch either their enthusiasm or love. Frankly, I need that just as much as I need to roll out my quads or put a plan in place for a major financial decision.
All are important, so it’s really a matter of considering the trade-offs - If not this, then what? I want Rory to know that it’s important that we care for ourselves physically and mentally and to witness Mom and Dad doing that. But not at the expense of forsaking our relationships, which are just as important to living a healthy, integrated life. I want Matt to know that we are together in our wild schemes to the end and that I am at my best with a strategy. It’s our classic couple superpower - we’re better together than we could ever be apart.
“You have to be very careful about to what (and to whom) you’re giving the best part of your day. ”
I find that being honest about the irritation and endearment are both important, not only to myself but to those around me. Being a working parent is hard. Trying not to screw up anything - my kid, my job, myself. Being a working spouse is hard. Trying not to keep score as to who is doing more housework during the week or who missed their jiu-jitsu class because the other partner is traveling for work and there’s no coverage for the kids and, at the same time, trying to support and balance each other’s individual aims and the family's dreams. But I’m fortunate to recognize these boundaries as they come up and decide to bend, not break, for the sake of what I’m truly going for - a rich, integrated life of love and meaning WITH my family, not solo.
On my grave, my headstone is not going to read, “Mediocre jiu-jitsu player, average yoga teacher, and so-so writer,” though my family is the kind of pranksters that would do that to get the last laugh. I hope every day, I’m making the right choices so that my family will decide to remember me as a loving and dedicated wife and mom. I’ll continue to make sure I make the proper trade-offs for what matters so someone else doesn’t make them for me.
