The Two Minute Post that turned into the Much Longer Post because I have no time management skills

I have emerged from the protective cocoon of maternity leave and have jumped right back into the fray of full time work. Crimini! We are presently consumed with trying to figure out school schedules, work schedules, nursing visits and more. Sleeping and eating are important, too, I guess, if you like that sort of thing.

Jay is enjoying school. Ella is enjoying life without Jay to boss her around during the day. She misses him from time to time, but not enough to actually, like, vocalize it or anything. But, I know that when she gleefully declares, “When Jay goes to school today I am going to play with his toys!” that what she really means is that she misses him. Or something.

Also, did anyone else know that we actually have a daughter? Like a whole middle child, who is not her older brother Jay or younger brother Jack, but an entirely different, and wonderful little person who says funny things and likes to dance around wearing pink sparkly ballerina slippers? Huh. Once Jay started school, Ella came into her own and I realized just how much she had been relegated to the role of middle child. Let the guilt trip begin.

Speaking of guilt, I find myself feeling a lot of guilt lately, especially now that work has started. I realized recently how hard I had been trying to meet my own and others’ expectations. Read to your children at least 30 minutes a day. Eat organic, locally sourced food. Exercise an hour a day. Floss. Write thank you notes, on time. Spend quality time with your family. Keep a clean house. Meditate daily. Work at least 8, but preferably 10, hours a day to make an impact on the world. Read the newspaper. Follow local politics. Get involved. Volunteer. Walk, don’t drive, it’s better for the environment. Always do what’s right. Tell the truth. Be happy- no one likes a sad noodle. Be calm. Women who aren’t are called bitches. Bake cookies for your neighbors. Vote. Donate.

The list in my head keeps going.

On any given day I am giving it my all to do all of these things, and do them well. I had it in my head that women everywhere were doing all of these things simultaneously and that I was just behind the ball. Then it struck me that no one person I knew was doing all of these things at the same time. The women who were fit and physically active and highly involved with their kids didn’t have full time jobs. The women who had high powered jobs didn’t have kids at home. The women who were calm didn’t have spotless homes or a fulltime job/small children one-two punch.
After realizing that I was striving for the impossible, I exhaled deeply. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day to keep a clean house, cook all of your meals from scratch, take public transportation, exercise for a full hour, volunteer, work a full day, eat dinner together, read to your kids and still get the prescribed eight hours of sleep a night. I still feel guilty much of the time, but I am now conscious that I was pushing myself into the realm of near insanity, and now I can allow myself to scale back on my expectations. And, just like that, Ack! I am late for heading home! Guilt again!