I’ve always liked being productive. In high school, I played sports and worked on top of a full course load. Through college and law school, I took a single summer off. I was used to juggling multiple commitments and wearing several hats, and I liked it that way. In retrospect, I’m unsure if I liked it that way or if I liked meeting the expectation that life was a never-ending hustle.
Nonetheless, this mentality carried over well when I began practicing law. Even when I had too many tasks to complete in a single day, I was compelled to see it through.
It never seemed to be “could I?” but “would I?”
Over time, my tangible output was the most important, if not exclusive, indicator of my self-worth. If many checkmarks flecked my to-do lists, it was a day I could be proud of.
If not, I was failing and needed to do better.
This mentality crept into my maternity leave and, later, when I became a full-time stay-at-home mama. I felt obligated to show my worth in the tangible: how many chores I could do, how intricate a meal I could prepare, how many activities I could organize, etc. And when any (read: all) of them were not accomplished, I felt deeply inadequate.
At the end of many days, it seemed my only success was surviving.
I had quit my paid full-time job to take care of tiny humans, and yet, I still didn’t recognize parenting as something that would occupy most, if not all, of my time.
This had to change.
The problem did not lie with me: it hid in the way I defined productivity.
Said differently, I wasn’t counting all of the things I was doing because they weren’t visible in the way I was accustomed.
Answering all the questions about all the things.
Dressing and packing and shoeing everyone up for an outing that we never leave for.
Looking on [not so] patiently as they learn to do things on their own.
Spills, outfit changes, butt and nose wipes (and you have to use TWO DIFFERENT wipes for this, or it’s frowned upon).
These are just a few things in a day’s work, and none of them would have ever made it on my pre-mama to-do list. To be very clear, it’s not that I’m lowering the bar or saying goodbye to any semblance of productivity for the next decade.
I’m learning to recognize and quantify all of the intangible work.
So, there are days when I get some things done outside of parenting, and there are days when I do not. There are days when I crush all the errands without any extra coffee, and there are some when the home project list gets moved to the next week. Some days, it’s more important to let my youngest climb up the stairs by herself, even though it takes her roughly seven hours to do so.
I cannot judge myself for the “cannots” as though they were “willnots.”
Most significantly, I’m learning to see the epic value in these moments with my children. Each one, I hope, is contributing ever so slightly toward the ultimate parenting task.
To raise good and happy humans.
What could be more productive than that?
