I think that parenting is the most elaborate juggling act I’ve ever experienced. Before I had kids, I thought I was organized, thought I made dinner most nights, thought I could handle chaos. But now, other people depend on me. Small, demanding people.
Sometimes it feels like I have two choices: be organized or drown.
Now, I’d like to state that I am not a “Type A” personality. At all. And yet, it seems that my plate is, at times, overflowing in such a way that I have no choice but do things like schedule housework and obsessively write “To Do” lists.
For the past six weeks, I’ve been taking an Accounting course. It’s been, shall we say, rather intense. I’m no math genius, and though I realize accounting is mostly addition and subtraction, all those numbers is enough to make my eyes cross and writing journal entry after journal entry and trying to balance a budget that I never actually manage to balance, well, let’s just say I can’t wait until the final is over.
I’ve also been in the middle of organizing a conference for a small group of people. It’s been a decent amount of work in itself, and since I was trying to make it a “First Annual” event, I really wanted everything to go smoothly.
Oh right, and then there was the half marathon training.
And these things were all cumulating within ten days of each other.
When I run, I always think that the way I feel at that particular moment defines the entire run. 2k in and weeee I’m flying and thinking to myself “This is the best! Run! Ever!” Fast forward to 15k and it’s more along the desperate lines of “I can’t do this anymore! What’s wrong with me? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? I’m never doing this again.”
That way of thinking infiltrates into my regular life, too. Wednesday afternoon, I had dropped the kids off with my mom and come home to finish packing. Laundry was strewn, literally, all over my bedroom. Instead of focusing on my suitcase and acknowledging that I was feeling more than a little nervous about this conference I was about to moderate, I was freaking out about the laundry. Wringing my hands and bemoaning to my husband about the state of things.
The good news is that the conference went without a hitch and I ran a PB in the Johnny Miles Half last Sunday (2h05m). The bad news is that my room’s still a mess.
We have to make priorities, and it can be a very hard choice to make. I’m not willing to sacrifice time with my kids for time to myself, or vice-versa. I know that taking the time to run, to organize conferences, to go back to school makes me a happier person and therefore a better mother. But I also know that quiet weekday mornings with my kids, some Robert Munsch books and a cup of tea is equally important and equally enjoyable.
As I stroke a satisfying check next to an item on my list, inevitably I add another.
Half Marathon PB: Check. Added: Triathlon in July.
Successful Conference: Check. Added: Coaching a 10k clinic.
I daydream of my next marathon and begin to plan my training, and then later that same day I think of a hot sandy beach, with nothing to do and a cold drinking perspiring in my hand.
The art of prioritizing is a tricky one, but sometimes I wonder if it’s not half as difficult as the art of balancing.
And let’s just say that tomorrow’s laundry day.
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