To say that we are stretched thin right now would be a massive understatement. This morning, after attending May’s baby book club, I dropped C. off at daycare and returned home to unclog a kitchen sink, unpack from a weekend trip to St. Louis, put away two loads of laundry, do another load of laundry, apply to two jobs I came across over the weekend, and pack. Not pack for a trip but for a move. Our move that is happening in roughly a week from now.
That’s just today. Everyday is similarly full of things to be done, some more urgently needed than others but never with an hour to rest or spare.
When C. started daycare last week, I thought it would open up this huge amount of time for me. That I would have time to tackle all of those chores and life to-do lists while still finding the time to finally read a book again or take a nap or go on a walk. Maybe even do some prenatal yoga to start my days. Somehow, that time between dropping her off and picking her up in the afternoon flies. Before I know it, I’m back in the car and heading to her school. I write another list of things to do for the next day and add that to the one from the day before.
The last few months were busy because I was teaching a course and taking care of our daughter full time. The only childcare I had was for the time actually spent in the classroom and one additional two-hour slot a week for some lesson planning and grading. I did most of my lesson prep and course-related work in the evenings or during C’s naptimes. Add to that first trimester nausea and fatigue and I was definitely feeling overextended. I thought that finishing the semester and starting daycare would take care of everything.
But it doesn’t. And the truth is that it’s as much my fault as it is external circumstances. Because I’m a prodigeous over-achiever and over-committer. I take on way too many projects at once and I have a hard time saying no to anything. I love a good challenge and thrive on being active and engaged with lots of things at once. I’m sure that’s why I was able to survive grad school – a time during which you’re expected to teach, be a student, conduct research, write, travel, submit grant proposals and fellowship applications, mentor undergrads, serve on committees, and oh yeah, if there’s any time left in there, have a personal life. Because these are your prime years, so go ahead and get married. Start a family. Just, you know, don’t get too behind on your comps.
Maybe it’s a lingering case of grad-student-itis, maybe it’s just my personality, but I need to slow down. And nothing’s a better reminder of that than a tired, achey, pregnant body.
I know things won’t slow down a whole lot with our new home once we move because we’ll still need to unpack and get settled and plant a vegetable garden and make the space our own. And I still want to lead monthly Kidical Mass rides and volunteer at the library. I’m also still applying for jobs that come up and are a good fit and that takes time. Job applications and cover letters take lots of time. So does maintaining a blog and answering reader emails (although this is a thousand times more enjoyable of a time committment than applying for work). And editing submissions for Flyover Feminism and answering those reader emails also takes time.
I’m not really sure where to cut back (cutting back is not my forte, taking on more is my forte) but I recognize that it needs to happen. I want to be able to enjoy this time before the baby comes and I need to find a more balanced rhythm to my days: one that includes reading a book, taking a walk, attending a prenatal yoga class, or simply sitting still with my eyes closed and my mind blank. I also want to enjoy this coming summer, the last one with our daughter as our only child. I want to be there, fully present and awake, savoring this time for what it is before the chaos and sleep-deprived fog of newborn parenting sets in. I want our weekends to be relaxed and sponteneous and free of urgently needing to be done chores.
So I’m slowing down. And I’m cutting back. And I’m intentionally doing less. I’m going against every grad school/academia-ingrained instinct and aiming lower. Much more lower.
I’m taking a deep breath today, looking around, seeing what really needs my attention and vowing to live each day with a little more room for unplanned life.































































