Let’s talk “time.”
So, I say this about once a month, but I really need to focus. Working from home- and for multiple publications- it’s way too easy to field emails as they come in, work on articles in 10-minute bursts, and generally make yourself available ’round the clock. Which, unsurprisingly, results in sub-par work, sub-par parenting, sub-par sense of self (nothing is EVER actually finished!), and sub-par…everything else. I’ve decided to actually- for realsies- keep “office hours” this summer, so have been trying to baby step my way in for spring. That means I have a window of time in the early morning, 7 days a week, to pitch work, put out fires, respond to alltheemails, and, you know, write for pay.
On school days for my big kids and non-preschool days for my youngest, he will watch TV, play all by his lonesome, and/or find something to do around 8 or 9am. He will survive- nay, thrive because…once 10am (or thereabouts) rolls around? I. Am. His. Mom. Sure, laundry will need to be laundered and Target runs will need to be run, but he won’t have to repeat that story about the Storm Trooper for the 8th time because my focus won’t be on retweets or emails that begin with “circling back” or “wanted to keep this on your radar.”
I’ll check emails- ONLY EMAILS- again at noon, 3pm, and right after the kids go to bed, because a) it’s a hop, step, and click from checking email to suddenly sharing a Buzzfeed article about which deli sandwich best represents your TV viewing habits, and b) if I’m feeling pressured to be “available” morning, noon, and night for PR peeps, my take-home pay should be a leeeetle bit higher. (I’ll finish up any due-super-soon work after the kids go to bed as well, because, despite that last sentence, I need monies.)
Which brings me to…
My phone is poison. Don’t get me wrong. I love my phone. I love your phone. I love when phones do what they do (questionably) best, which is to connect people via words and voices. But I can’t be trusted anymore. There are too many hilarious memes and feminist rage-pieces and I want to see all of them. But I cannot. (See: “Storm Trooper,” above.)
So aside from my email check-ins and morning/evening work hours, I. Am. Putting. The. Phone. Away. (Except for calls and texts! Which should seem super-duper weird to have to say but here we are!) I may absolutely bomb and crash n’ burn and other violent terms for “fail,” but…
…My kids are 4, 6, and 8. I want to parent them this summer which, yes, sure, will involve lots of silent reading time on blankets and entire evenings dedicated to movie franchises, but I don’t want to be fractured with my time or focus anymore.
(I hear you, merry-go-round.)
(I’m pretty sure I’ll always be able to figure out the “deli sandwich” thing.)
(It’s probably a Reuben.)
More about “time.”
I’ve been working out a ton lately. Which is great but also completely terrible. My point, however, is that “time” is a finite thing but “busy” is a choice. (Sometimes a necessary, also terrible one, but a choice nonetheless.) After roughly five years of hating every last thing about my physique and my energy level and a goodly portion of life my choices, P.J. gently encouraged me to, you know, actually do something. So we’ve embarked on the second month of the Insanity workout DVDs and month one was awful for me, mentally, physically, and whiningly, so that’s all I’ll say about that (except I definitely look and feel better but still hate myself when working out).
But back to “time.” I put it off for a ridiculously long time because I couldn’t squeeze in half an hour of cardio, what with all of the Facebooking and YouTubing and staring vaguely out the window wondering if the kids bathed last night or the night before that. (It was the night before that.)
I want to be better with my time.
You know how everyone says they wish they could do more, if they just had more time? (I say this a lot.) If I can dedicate less than an hour a night to flailing around like a frightened wombat in my kids’ playroom, then I can, you know, do something slightly more impressive in my community.
I’m so glad that this crossed my desk. Chicago’s Honor Roll: Heroes For Kids in Need. Looking for meaningful volunteer opportunities in the community? It doesn’t get much more meaningful than mentoring homeless children once a week with Chicago HOPES For Kids. But there are so many other ways to get involved, through arts and sciences and brightening the day of kids with terminal illnesses and making the world (and city!) a cleaner, greener place.
Squeeze the time in. (It’s there, I promise.)
My summer plan, aside from putting my phone in a galaxy far, far away, includes getting my kids more involved in their community. Because, like in every other darned parenting scenario, they are watching. I’m ready to model a bit more “good”.
…With my bit more “health” and bit more “Twitter avoidance.”
Keep you posted.
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