A Sweet Struggle. A Sweet Surrender.
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{I wrote this post a couple of days ago. And then. And then something told me not to publish it, that it was a little raw, lacking in editorial or existential varnish. Reading it over makes me feel a bit vulnerable, exposed. But you know what? Maybe that means that there is something profoundly universal, and real, here. So. So here it is. Maybe, just maybe, these words will trigger something in you or make you think of someone you know. Someone who is trying hard and realizing that this parenting and person-ing thing? It’s tricky and wonderful business.}
Confession: I’m struggling.
Don’t worry. It’s a sweet struggle. (Mostly.) A good one. (Often.) Let me explain.
Maybe you’ve gathered this, but I’m a bit of a perfectionist. I like success and accomplishment. I like setting goals and reaching them. I like gold stars. Once upon a time, I thought I’d mature into a person who is reasonable and rational and understanding of the fact that perfection is unattainable, and even undesirable, that I’d give myself a break. But no. Here I am. Out of school, but still striving for A’s.
But the thing is that I’m stretched between sides of myself. The mother side. The writer side. The wife side. The daughter side. The sister side. The friend side. The blogger side. (Who knew there would be so many sides?)
I’m realizing that we can’t tend to all sides of ourselves at once. It’s simply impossible. I cannot be a 100% hands-on mom and write a billion novels and leave a billion blog comments and call all my friends and say hey you! what’s up? and be a super-supportive sister and daughter and an endlessly giving wife and organize my closets and cabinets and cook delectable and obviously organic meals all at the same time. And trying? It can make us, okay me, mildly miserable.
If I let it.
And so. Here is my vow: I will not let it. I will own up to the fact that I am, yup, human and, yup, fallible. That I’m honestly doing the best I can (I think), that I’m following my instincts (it seems), spending my time how it seems I should, stumbling splendidly (and shakily) along on this rocky and regal road that is Life.
You may have noticed that I’ve been a bit less present here. I have not been reading or leaving many comments on your blogs. That I have not been responding to many comments left here. I don’t love this. In fact, I hate it. In an ideal world, I’d be on it, full of cyber-mojo, flitting around furiously, interacting with all of you. I love doing this. Trust me.
But.
Right now? Right now, for better or worse, surely for better, my life is about three little girls. The three little girls who sit on the picnic blanket above surrounded by that glorious candy green grass. I never quite made a conscious choice, I never concluded This time is about them but I have realized that indeed this time is about them. And to this fine truth, I am happy to surrender. Even though it is sometimes hard.
In this blog world, we are so quick to confess our flaws as parents, to admit to our impatiences and frustrations and shortcomings. I think this makes sense; We are all seeking bits of camaraderie and compassion. But it is not as common to see someone celebrate the job she is doing, the difficult and hugely important job she is doing, raising young children.
You know what? I think I’m doing a pretty good job with my girls. There. I said it. I am not a perfect mom, I never will be, but I am doing well. These girls? They are thriving and smiling little people. On a daily basis, we are making it from A to B (and often to C-E) and back to A. We are interacting and laughing and eating fruit snacks and edamame and lollipops, having true conversations and squealing at passing firetrucks. Things are good.
Does being a “good” mom entail being a “less good” blogger? For me, maybe so. And that is okay. Quite simply, it has to be.
Or. Or, maybe, just maybe, being a good mom makes me an even better blogger? Not necessarily a blogger who is online 22 hours a day incessantly Tweeting and linking and commenting and responding, but a blogger who is utterly human and real and struggling (yes, sweetly) to honor and balance (ha!) all the intrinsically good and conflicting things in her life.
I’d really like to believe this. And so I will.
Thanks to all of you who continue to imbibe my words on a daily basis. And an extra thank you to those of you who continue to comment despite my admitted absenteeism of late. Are you a member of the Perfectionist species? Do you struggle to juggle your sides?
Oh, Aidan, I am familiar with both this struggle and this surrender … I often feel that I’m failing on every single dimension of my life, and wonder if maybe I’d do better if I simply had fewer ‘sides,’ as you say. But then I return again to my image of being a kaleidoscope, not a laser, and to my deep sense that I need all of this aspects of identity, all of these roles, for some reason. And I try to surrender. But it’s hard. So, so hard. xox
Lindsey – Honestly? Writing this post reminds me what I love so much about blogging. This world is not just about the cadence of words and the beauty of sentences, but about stories. Human stories. Stories that too often aren’t told. In my heart, I knew (and know) that my struggle to juggle is really something profoundly human and universal and so I went for it, floating these bits out there to see where they’d settle. I know we’ve talked about this before – the incessant attempt to figure it out, to find that balance that by nature eludes, but it doesn’t hurt to keep talking about it, huh? Especially because we keep living it, right? Thanks for your wise words this morn
Oh, you too? Here’s the thing about blogs: they’re a window into others’ real lives, and so I know that other parents lose their cool, struggle with tantrums and breastfeeding and shoe shopping, worry about work/life balance, and so on. Which is reassuring. BUT it also makes me think that all of those other moms are dealing with these issues while living in beautifully decorated homes that they DIY’d from vintage rehabbed yard sale finds, feeding their families elaborate meals from their own gardens, putting away their kids’ toys in immaculately organized closets … and running marathons for meaningful charities. This vexes me, but I keep reminding myself that I’m gluing together bits and pieces into an unreal life.
So yes, I’m a (recovering) perfectionist!
Yes! There is something simultaneously so authentic and so artificial about blogs. And I am complicit here. Posts like this one today fall on the side of “Oh my goodness, this is tough work” but I know there are posts where I paint a very rosy and ideal picture. It is not to mislead – those posts are fully honest too – but I think we all need to revere the golden and less-golden moments and blogs let us do just that. Which is wonderful, right?
So good to know that I am not alone in my perfectionism. Really. I have a hunch I will struggle with this for a long, long time.
As I was reading your post I was like yes, yes, yes! I can relate to trying to be the best at everything and ‘win’ at life.
AND I don’t even have children–so I really cannot imagine trying to do the blogging, writing, wife, friend, sister, daughter role on top of begin an engaged, passionate mom. So I wanted to write and say KUDOS–Kudos to you and all the other mom’s out there who are raising our future…who are trying to figure it out…trying to be the best mom and best person possible. Just in the trying you are succeeding!!
Thank you for this. And, really, thank you for the reminder that this is really not about parenthood, but about adulthood and LIFE. All of us are trying to balance aspects of our identities. All of us feel we are neglecting certain aspects as we focus on others. And I love the idea that in trying, in genuinely trying, we are already achieving some modicum of success. That makes sense to me and I want to remember that.
Oh, I definitely struggle to balance all of my sides. I can so relate to where you’re at. Right now, it feels like I can’t get anything done beyond work, kids, and meals. I, too, am a writer, so this is a little frustrating, but for now, I am doing the best I can.
BTW, I think those posts that are most difficult to publish are usually the posts that we’re supposed to be writing!
I could not agree more that it is the posts that are hard and scary that are the ones that really need to be out there. I know that when I visit a blog and read something raw and real and glimpse a human being through the screen, I am far more compelled than if I read a sweet little story devoid of struggle. Don’t get me wrong – I like those stories too – and I write them here – but sometimes it is good to see conflicts and cracks too. Because that’s life, right?
“for right now.” Isn’t this the key? I know (as it seems you do) that there will come a time – and likely soon – when this gets easier. It is important (and hard, so hard) to remain patient for that time to come…
One more question, patently an impossible one: How do we know when we are doing our best?
Take each day and chesrish it…. you enlighten others and give us a peek into your precious world. Things can change in an instant, so do what is good and best for you and yours. I am a cancer survivor….cherish all you can.
Jan – Thank you so much for these words, for the reminder that my struggle is indeed a sweet one, one to cherish, for the reminder that my “problem” is a privileged problem. Having lost my own father very quickly to cancer, I know how life can turn on an instant. I know how everything can change just like that. I think about this often, how fortunate I am to have my health and my family. Honestly, I think knowing that everything can change makes me more compelled to figure out (and instantly) how best to enjoy my life and render it meaningful. I guess you could say that I feel a certain pressure to soak up these moments but also make them the best moments they can be… But you are right, oh so right, that I should be celebrating these days, the exquisite and exhausting chaos at their core, the life around me, and in me. Thank you for this very important reminder. For me. For us all.
I look at wonderful women, like you, and my boss who manage children, homes, their business, their husbands, and their dogs. I have just me and my career right now. And I strive and WANT to juggle all that some day. I think the perfectionist in me will struggle just as sweetly but always be convinced I can do more, strive more, achieve more. I think we all need to step back and give ourselves a break. You’re doing great Aidan!
Thank you, Emily. When I think about it, when I really think about it, I probably aspired to this struggle too. Doesn’t a good and full life entail many things, things which often conflict and pull us in many directions? And I think there is something positive about striving as long as it does not dominate and distract us from the fleeting present moment.
Yep, another perfectionist here…I struggle with “Am I doing ENOUGH to justify not working away from home anymore?” The thought of if am I earning my keep, I guess…but then I have so many wonderful visitors to the farm that say “I don’t know how you do it all!” I am always thinking of the next project I want to try, the next thing to cross of the to-do list (and on a 100 year old farm, that’s a lot!), or what else I should have gotten to over the course of the week. But then I do try to just step back every now and again and appreciate the fact that I love my life. I love my husband, my home, my work, all of it. To reflect on how lucky I am.
But still, this morning when hubby told me the well pump wasn’t working, I though of how I couldn’t do laundry, or dishes, or canning… and I had about 5 minutes of fantasy that I was going to paint my toes and read a book all day. Darn him for being so handy, I’ve got work to do now
Emily – Reading your words (and many others’ here) I am beginning to realize that so many of us have contrasting aspects of our identity. We all want to achieve and produce, but we also want (and need) to pause from time to time, to slow down, to savor, to reflect, to relax. Love the story about your hubby fixing the pump. I think you have an inspired a post about fix-it men. (I have one too, thankfully!)
Wait a second, did I write this post? I think I must’ve, because it’s exactly how I feel.
Blogging, in a way, has taught me how to live in the chaos of it all. All the sides and how they compete in our lives to dominate, that’s the interesting stuff worth writing about. It’s the interesting stuff YOU write about it.
I, for one, couldn’t care less if you respond to my comments. So, consider this your free ticket to just read mine and move on to the next one.
Thinking about you and your girls. xoxox
Lauren! So great to see you here. And to know that you are stuck in this oh-so-sweet struggle with me. You are right; this, these conflicts, these tugs – this is the stuff of life, the stuff worth thinking about and writing about. I know you don’t care if I respond (and I appreciate that) but I wanted to. Frankly, I always want to but there aren’t enough hours in the day.
Hope your little girl is doing great.
xo
Aidan you are instinctively doing exactly the right thing. These days with your girls, before they go off to school and start being molded by hands other than yours, they are YOUR time to “leave a mark”. It is stressful, but it is temporary. I do believe a woman CAN have it all – BUT – NOT all at once.
You’ll move into the phase with pre-school, I’m guessing, which means you only have what 3 years, or maybe 4 when you are their world. So, ENJOY it – be in the moment – write “small stones” and love the time; it will pass in the blink of an eye.
(((((HUGS)))))
Trece – Thank you. Yes, it is all about instinct. It really is. And my instinct is to maximize my moments with my girls even if it means sacrificing much else. And you are also right to note that this time is fleeting, that in a matter of years, they will be off becoming people, in places without me. I will savor this. I will. And I will also write about it because writing truly helps me process my life and my dilemmas and realize that my struggles are not just mine. We can have it all, right? In bits and pieces, over time. Again, thanks.
Just by the sheer number of comments already
You can see that this post resonates with us, your readers.
I, too, am a perfectionist, but due to my external working constraints
have already realized that I cannot do it all. There just simply is not
enough time in the day.
I am a week out from having my third girl (!!!) and she is a
beautiful and precious gift that I cherish. But I know that
these thoughts that you have poetically professed will be
haunting me soon. I’ll consider them a warning.
Carrie – So so exciting that you are a week out from having your third girl. As someone who has been there, what a magical thing it is to anticipate. And you will love that little creature, but she will also complicate your world in the most exquisite way. If you are at all like me – and it sounds as if you are – your mind will be muddled with love and many many questions about how to do it all and live and love well. You will do a great job, but man oh man, it’s not easy. What helps? Putting these thoughts, haunting or no, into words. Being honest. Realizing that we are all struggling with these things. Because, really, we are.
Good luck!!!!
Oh how I relate! All the aspects of being a woman, wanting to be perfect in every area, and feeling less than adequate to do so.
Soon, your girls will be older and you will have plenty of time to give in other areas, but these moments? These periods when it’s just you and them? Those will be moments you will forever cherish.
I know you are a wonderful woman in all areas and am so glad you are willing to share just a small part of yourself with us.
Amber – Thank you for making me realize that this is indeed something about being a woman. Why is it that we feel so compelled to excel in so many things? I really feel like I know more perfectionists who are female than are male. And I wonder what that is all about. I really appreciate you (and a few others) reminding me that this is indeed a precious (and passing) time with my tiny girls. I’m sure you feel the same way about your own beautiful kiddos. But it isn’t ever easy, is it? Maybe easy is overrated?
You very gently touch on something important here. You wrote, “Not necessarily a blogger who is online 22 hours a day incessantly Tweeting and linking and commenting and responding…”
For so many of us, blogging isn’t JUST blogging. If you were just blogging you would publish as many blog posts as suited you, respond to the comments that resonated with you, and be done with it. But for so many of us blogging is just one spoke in a huge (and self-perpetuating) wheel of social networking. With Twitter and Facebook buzzing 24-hours a day it is humanly impossible to keep up. Yet we feel compelled to try in order to drive traffic to our blogs, to stay in tune with what other bloggers are doing and writing, and to stay a part of the online “community.”
I’ve taken a step back from this never-ending cycle lately and it’s had a few consequences. Comments on my site are down. I feel less affirmed by my online counterparts. And my self-esteem has become less intertwined with what a bunch of people I hardly know have to say about me.
I guess what I’m getting at here is that blogging can be just blogging. But in order for that to happen you have to make the conscious decision to let some of the online world slip away from you. You were Aidan before you had a blog. You were Aidan before Twitter and Facebook existed. You can figure out who Aidan is without those things again if you want to.
Gale – As always, your words really strike me. You are right; my blog is not me. I have an entire world away from this place and it is a good world. And yet. I feel a tug back here when I stray too far for what I deem to be too long. This for me is the sign that I need to keep doing this, that this place is of profound, if inscrutable importance to me and my identity. But you are right; It is up to us to pave the path we wish to travel. There is no need to get sucked in too much… As I march toward my three year blogging anniversary (nutty), I am really realizing that we blog in cycles. Energy waxes and wanes. Momentum fires up and fizzles. I think this is normal, and okay. Maybe even good.
I am glad that you have stepped back a bit. I think it is not a coincidence that you are full of life now, expecting your second sweet little boy. I think your body (and mind) are telling you to focus on what matters and you know exactly what that is right now.
xo
I was just chatting with another blogger about the impossibility of doing it all, how focusing on just writing means paying less attention to family, but focusing on just family means neglecting an essential part of what makes me “me,” and how terribly hard it is to try to do it all, and do it well. And how often, that results in doing nothing.
It is so much healthier to admit that we can’t do it all perfectly, and to just do the best we can, in every area that is important, and let the rest go. Kudos to you for recognizing that, and putting it out here for the rest of us to see and cheer!
Louise – it is truly heartening to know that I am not the only one who is pondering the impossibility of it all. I think that so so many of us feel this way and I think it is important that we say this, that we admit to our limits and our frustrations and our confusions rather than pretend they do not exist. Isn’t there something cruel but poetic about the fact that often in trying to do it all we end up doing nothing, that in trying to be everything, we often end up feeling like we are nothing?
Take it from someone who is on the other side…. youngest in college, oldest OUT of college now in med school. Those three little girls ARE what life is about. I was a writer when my kids were young (before blogging was around) but I did the same thing: I was mom first, writer when I could. Happiest. Ever. Was I ever perfect? No such thing. But it was wonderful and the very very best thing I’ve ever done. Hands down. Now? I am still mom first…. when my “kids” need me, when I am invited. But those days? The picnic blanket days? The BEST.
Julia – Thank you! For weighing in here, for sharing your perspective, for affirming my own instincts and choices. I have always believed in instinct and it is really quite overwhelming how strong mine is right now – to devote my time and thoughts to my tiny creatures. I know there will come a day when I long for these days, these blurry and beautiful days full of chaos and quick change. These picnic blanket days? I vow not to take them for granted.
{By the way, I am envisioning a memoir entitled The Picnic Blanket Days… about forcing myself to focus on these fleeting moments in my little girls’ lives… I kind of love this… Might have to run it by my lovely agent!}
I feel you. I think the reason I was so guilt-free about leaving my life as an attorney (possibly only for a “temporary” 5-8 year hiatus) the day I had my first child is because I knew that for me there was no way to “do it all.” And trying to do it all would just make me miserable. Trying to be the best mom and wife and person, while still having time to relax and be myself, is a full time job. I love it and think having young children is the sweetest phase of life. But I definitely could not do it as well as I am if I were pulled in a ton of other directions with career stress, etc. That is just my own personal comfort level and decision, I don’t at all mean to imply that working moms aren’t equally great moms etc., but for me, I knew I couldn’t do both and feel happy.
I think that once my babies are in school, I’ll have more time and can turn back to my career. I’ll have to see when I get there but being fully comfortable putting that part of myself to the side right now gives me the freedom to feel like I am doing really well in the sphere I am in and not worrying about the rest. It is impossible to be “perfect” at too many things at once. Something has to give. Once you find comfort in deciding what you are comfortable letting slide for the time being I think life gets a lot clearer, sweeter and easier.
For the record, I think you are doing beyond great
. xox
Jess – Thanks, babe. Honestly? I applaud you for stepping away from the law, for being intent on focusing on your little girl (and soon your little guy!) I really think that this decision was so smart and that you can always go back to “career.” There are times when I wish that I did just this, that I vowed to put all professional aspirations on hold until the day when my kiddos were ensconced in school for hours on end. But. But I can’t do this. I love writing too much. If too much time lapses without writing, I get itchy and unhappy. It is wonderful that I feel this passion, but it is also hard sometimes, you know?
I am so excited that we are having these important conversations even though we are separated by so many miles. Hope you are feeling great. By the way, Sister C knows what she is having
If I had a vocation I loved as much as you loved writing I am sure it would be harder. Big law had its attractions but its definitely not the same way you feel about writing. I miss our wine-soaked conversations from years gone by but love these too
. Going to reach out to C today, so exciting!
Aidan, this is the same struggle I have on a daily basis. Doesn’t it feel good to get it out? You’re doing the right thing. Years from now, you won’t regret missing out on the blogs you never visited, and you won’t regret holding those tiny hands and kissing those sweet faces.
Like the previous commenters mentioned, blogging is more than just writing. Yet I’m sure you started your blog to write, as I did. When I’m feeling low about less traffic to my site or fewer comments, I remember why I’m here. To write, not necessarily to read every one else’s blogs and comment on a billion posts and tweet and be omnipresent on facebook. We have limited time and we must be selective. It’s all a precarious balance. And not an easy one for the perfectionist who hates to feel like she’s not doing enough. I can assure you, you are.
Lucy – Thank you. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that so many of us are dealing with these dilemmas, sweating through these struggles. But I think we get so cozy in our own worlds, that we tend to internalize our issues, that it becomes easy to forget that there is a universal gloss to these questions. I do think often about regret. I know that I won’t regret not publishing eight books before 40 but I know for sure that I will regret not having these moments with my little girls, these wandering walks, these brilliant bits of conversation. And, yes, I did start this blog to write and that’s the part of it that compels me. But I am human and I do get tripped up by the other stuff too, the less important stuff.
A precarious balance? Indeed. Absolutely. And, it seems, we are all kind of in this together. Which makes this game a little bit more fun, no?
Thank you.
Aidan,
You have to find the balance that makes you happy and that works for you. At the end of the day the most important thing are your girls and the life and love that you give to them.
xo.
Ayala – I couldn’t agree more. The issue is that I am having a hard time finding a balance that makes me happy and works for me… How does one find this? But, yes, at the end of the day family is what matters. A simple, but exceedingly important truth.
This was definitely a struggle of mine when I was in my thirties. Now that I’m in my 40s? I’m much more content and happier and accepting of my shortcomings. Of anyone’s shortcomings, for that matter. Life is so, so very short. I’d much rather focus on what I CAN do, rather that what I SHOULD do. It’s the moments, the glimpses and the sticky, sweet hugs that make life amazing. And I’m determined to cherish every single one.
Thank you for this, Jane. I realize that I should be focusing on all of the amazing things I’m juggling even if they cause some kind of emotional/existential struggle from time to time. Life is short. I know this. I’ve learned this. How do we balance the desire to make our days good and meaningful with the desire to just celebrate life qua life? I haven’t the faintest. Thank you for chiming in here. This is an important conversation, I think.
I am perfectionist who has learnt to loosen a bit, I have to with Jane, now in my forties I accept my shortcomings. I have learnt to do what I can to the best of my ability and not to force anything.
It does not mean that sometimes I am not antsy about things, but I have learnt to analysis and if I can not get it completed straight away, I let it be.
Personally I think your doing a great job, another great post!
Thank you, Angela. Again good to know that I am far from alone in my perfectionist tendencies. I am realizing that it was very important for me to write – and share – this post. In doing so, I have learned a great deal. I have learned to try to savor these moments even if they are tricky sometimes. Thanks again!
It sounds to me like you have a better handle on things than you give yourself credit for.
I love this post, because although the story is different, the plot is the same for so many of us, myself included. We can’t be everything perfectly, so we need to choose our battles and it simply makes sense that our children, who need us so much, are at the top of the list.
amber
I love your honesty here. I have been a perfectionist (notice I did not say I am!) and I’ve gotten much better at not having to have everything Just So.
Now that my boys are teens I really cherish those wonderful moments when we’d cuddle together, with me forgetting about doing what was on my list and just being with them.
Way to go for enjoying that time that is just so fleeting.