I have a three-year-old, that I usually refer to as The Preschooler in social media arenas. He’s charming. He’s particular. He loves making us laugh. He has a gleam in his eye that does not quit, and he’s inherited not one, but two styles of stubbornness from his parents who thrive in their persistence that they are always right.
And he’s not a fan of sleeping alone. He never has been. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles and also – if you complain about your kid wanting cuddles in the night, does that make you a monster? Absolutely not. But it also doesn’t make my crazy for meeting him for his cuddles. It does, however, make me very, very, very doggedly tired. I’m writing this very, very, very doggedly tired. My husband and I trade off on the nighttime cuddles (for we are both greedy for time, even if its unconscious, and also both need solid sleep – it works for us) and last night, it was my night to slip into the Preschooler’s car and bus themed sheet set and hope to god sleep came easily. It did not. I knew it wouldn’t, as I was laying there at 1:30, watching Mr. Star Puppy’s tummy stars circulate on the ceiling in a glowing blue haze without my glasses. But the larger part of my problem was that I was running through my to-do list for today. Work deadlines. This blog entry (the theme of which I couldn’t even remember in my sleep deprivation so I couldn’t even mentally draft it). What are my social media posts this week, again? Wait – are we talking work social media or writing social media? Oh ya – I’m a writer. I need to start Part III of the book. Okay – think about that. MC does this, that, then this….wait, is that in the outline? Oh, crap I didn’t send out the outline for that thing at work. And on and on. And on. And now we’re here. Eight hours later, the Preschooler safely at daycare, me procrastinating putting on pants to go to the office. My head is fuzzy. I was going to write something lovely about a checklist, I think. Say something eloquent about dividing time, slicing days into perfectly reserved chunks of day to get Work, Parenting, Writing done. My god, how I wish it worked like that. But it doesn’t. At least not at this point in my life. I’m also incredibly terrible at flying by the seat of my pants. The second I'm asked to switch directions from whatever I’m thinking about, annoyance flares, and I’m distracted by the burning in my lungs and THEN by whatever took me from whatever valuable headspace I’d been cultivating. It’s a struggle right now. Maybe it’s the weather. Marketing tip: you’re supposed to leave your reader with a Call to Action at the end of a blog or a post. I do it all day, every day, in emails, in verbal discussions, on all my social media platforms. No matter my audience, it seems I’m always yelling down a real or proverbial hall a list of something that needs to be done. Maybe that’s my biggest problem. But you, dear reader – here’s what you need to do after reading this. Look up from your phone. Take a deep breath. One of those deep, life-affirming gulps of air that you can’t believe you had the lung space to house. Cherish it. Think about how fulfilling it feels, rumbling about in here. How cold it was going down, how it forced your shoulders back, how your chin may be tilted to the sky. Think about what makes you whole, even if you don’t feel it. Because as soon as you exhale, and you must for biology and because we can’t live in the divinity forever, you’ll do what I can’t today. And that’s do anything other than just yearn for a nap. Yours in exhaustion and big dreams (and appreciation of the tools to make those big dreams possible), Stephanie
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