This weekend involved no major adventures unless you count trying to convince a toddler to sit still at a brunch where six adults were all discussing the mid-term Congressional elections. I’d recount the conversation but I wasn’t paying any attention to it. I was reading a book about cement mixers to C. to try and keep him at the table. So, instead of writing about that, I’m going to address the Myth of Doing It All.
Recently, another blogger complimented me on my ability to balance home, family, work and blogging. And my immediate response was “Hold the phone, lady! You think I’m balancing all of that stuff? You need glasses so you can look closer at the large pile of jettisoned responsibilities behind me.”
I don’t do it all. Hell, I don’t even TRY to do it all. Instead, I do a finely-tuned combination of what I absolutely NEED to do and what I want to do. Anything else? Lives permanently on the back burner.
Let’s take this weekend for example. Here’s what I did:
- Grocery shopping
- Visited with my dad who was in town
- Took C. to his tiny tots sports class
- Watched the Preakness on tv while eating cheeseburgers with my dad, grandfather, husband, and son
- Played baseball in the backyard with C.
- Fed baby geese with C. and my dad.
- Did the load of my laundry that’s been on the basement floor since last weekend
- Made out with my husband who left on a work trip Sunday morning
What I didn’t do:
- Changing sheets
- Mopping the kitchen floor
- Reading either of the two books I’m supposed to be blogging about
So, I live in a dusty house where the denizens eat take-out and my blog is going to be boring as hell but the baby geese in my neighborhood? Have bellies full of bread and my son knows his mother would rather play with him than fold clean clothes.
There is no woman alive who can Do It All. Or if there is, I don’t want her within a mile of my house because I’d get so annoyed with her that I’d trip her. And then I’d be failing at being a good example for my son as well as letting him live in a house that’s totally covered in a fine dusting of cat hair.
Most of us, I think, are doing what we can. We take care of our kids and our spouses, we do our paying jobs so we can put hot dogs and Goldfish on the table, we sneak out for the occasional pedicure for the sake of our own sanity, and if we’re smart, we don’t sweat that our solution to running out of clean undies is to pick up new ones when we go to Target.
Now, I’m not going to lie to you. I have it damn easy. Because I married a Great Guy. He is honestly doing 50% of what gets done around here and never gives me grief abut what isn’t getting done. I don’t know what I’d do if I had a husband who insisted on the towels being folded a certain way or complained about a constant diet of frozen spanikopita from Trader Joe’s. I would not be able to hold my schmidt together if I didn’t have a partner who bathed our toddler, washed his own boxers, and did the dishes after the spanikopita is cleared away. This all after working 50-hour weeks at a demanding job of his own.
Hey. HEY! What are you grabbing at? Are you trying to get your hands on my husband? Back, off ladies, he is MINE. Jeez.
Look, life isn’t easy. Motherhood isn’t easy. Taking care of a home isn’t easy. Working out of the house isn’t easy. It’s all hard and taken altogether, it’s frankly impossible to do it all. My solution? Screw the laundry for an hour and go feed some baby geese. Because the laundry will be there later. But the baby geese and your kids will grow up and you’ll never regret the time you give to them.