{"id":855,"date":"2011-05-20T09:09:29","date_gmt":"2011-05-20T14:09:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/snarkysquab.com\/?p=855"},"modified":"2011-05-20T09:09:29","modified_gmt":"2011-05-20T14:09:29","slug":"mothering-multi-tasking-and-buddha-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/?p=855","title":{"rendered":"Mothering, Multi-Tasking, and Buddha, Part 2"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>OK, so you&#8217;re caught up on my blossoming interest in all things Buddhesque. The reason I made you sit through all that was &#8230; well, I&#8217;m not going to lie to you, part of it was because I&#8217;ve just been THINKING so much about it and I wanted to have someone to talk to. But <em>also<\/em> it was because the thinking about the Buddhism has &#8211; in particular &#8211; got me rethinking my relationship to multitasking.<\/p>\n<p>Here&#8217;s the thing: I kind of hate it when parent-bloggers write from the assumption that having kids is some kind of holy experience that fundamentally differentiates them from non-parents, because I actually think that parents and non-parents have a lot more in common than not. BUT, having said that, it is also true that having kids has given me a completely different relationship to time. Before kids, when I was working full time, there were certainly times when I felt like there weren&#8217;t enough hours in the day to do everything that I wanted to do. Especially when I was, say, in tech rehearsals for a show, or finishing a really big project. After having a kid, and even more so after having two kids, OMFG THE TIME &#8211; There isn&#8217;t &#8211; I mean &#8211; <em>Are you kidding me<\/em> with the no time thing? And I&#8217;m not claiming that this is some essential quality of parenthood. I have high-powered lawyer friends without kids who get this, for example. And conversely, I&#8217;m sure there&#8217;s a person out there for whom parenting was the beginning of a whole new world of happiness and a sense that they were finally doing what they were meant to do. I&#8217;m just saying that A) that has not been *my* experience, and B) if I ever meet that person, I will punch them in the neck.<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s just that lately, by which I mean for the last five years, I&#8217;m so goddamned worn out by the end of the day from taking care of my adored, demanding, lovely, exasperating children, that it&#8217;s all I can do to figure out what we&#8217;re having for dinner and *maybe* make it, before ceding all power for the rest of the evening to Mr. Squab &#8211; who is, of course, wiped out himself from working at the office all day. But at the same time, I&#8217;m craving time for myself like a heroin addict craves a hit. I mean, taking care of kids is eminently worthy and important work (DUH), but it&#8217;s not exactly the most mentally stimulating activity you could ever engage in. In fact, most of the time, and I say this with love, it&#8217;s boring as fuck. So once the kids are in bed, my brain switches into hyperdrive and suddenly I have an urgent desire to dive headfirst into every single self-centered grown-up activity I can think of in the 4 hours I have before my own bedtime. It&#8217;s like somehow I have to make up for all the lost time I wasted grooming the next generation when I could have been catching up on the latest season of <em>Mad Men<\/em>. NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW, since I don&#8217;t have time to watch that show even though literally everyone I know has told me that I would love it and I&#8217;m sure they&#8217;re all right. So every evening, I cram in as many of my favorite selfish activities as I can get into the brief time available to me, often doing three or four things at once just so I can cross them off my list. You remember that episode of <em>Seinfeld<\/em> where George works out a way to have sex, listen to a ball game, and eat a hoagie all at the same time? Well, add knitting a sweater, reading a murder mystery, drinking a bourbon-and-coke and obsessively refreshing my Facebook feed and you have my ultimate fantasy night.<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s ridiculous, and the stupid thing is that I&#8217;m not even enjoying it. Somehow, I&#8217;ve convinced myself that my self-worth and sanity are predicated on maintaining all my pre-parenting interests and activities even as I engage in one of the most intense and time-consuming periods of being a parent. Now, there&#8217;s a part of that that&#8217;s right on the money: Every parent &#8211; every caretaker of any kind, for that matter &#8211; needs a healthy dose of caring for themselves on a regular basis, and lord knows those post-kid-bedtime hours are precious as gold. But I also recognize that I&#8217;ve gotten distinctly grabby with my &#8220;off&#8221; hours, in the sense that I collect activities around me and then hold them close with the single-mindedness of a born hoarder. I HAVE to read at least a chapter of my book every night. I HAVE to keep up with all the weekly shows on my DVR. I HAVE to knit-or-bake-or-sew-or-draw at least once a week. I HAVE to read every single Facebook post from every single friend and family member. I HAVE to skim <em>Newsweek<\/em>. And <em>The New Yorker<\/em>. And <em>Entertainment Weekly<\/em>. And <em>Vanity Fair<\/em>. Have to, have to, have to, because &#8230; well, because I ENJOY all those things, dammit! And I should be able to do things I enjoy! Haven&#8217;t I paid my dues? Don&#8217;t I deserve this time for myself? DON&#8217;T YOU TRY TO TELL ME I DON&#8217;T DESERVE IT!<\/p>\n<p>Sigh. So then I&#8217;m reading my various Buddhist books, and they talk about mindfulness, and being in the moment, and letting your chaotic thoughts, your &#8220;monkey mind,&#8221; settle into a calm and spacious perspective, and I think, Gee. That sounds awfully nice. Maybe what I really want isn&#8217;t more hours in the day. Maybe what would make me happy isn&#8217;t being grabby and angry about getting more &#8220;me time.&#8221; Perhaps, if I allowed myself, even occasionally, to stop multi-tasking and really focus on what I&#8217;m doing right now &#8230; maybe then I could stop being afraid of losing myself in parenthood, and remember that Walt Whitman was right: I am large, I contain multitudes. And life is too short not to enjoy the hell out of it as much as you can.<\/p>\n<p>So I&#8217;m trying. Not all the time, but occasionally, to just do what I&#8217;m doing when I&#8217;m doing it. If I want to read a book, I can just read it. If I want to watch TV, I can just watch it. I don&#8217;t have to check my email while I&#8217;m talking on the phone. I don&#8217;t have to knit AND surf the web AND drink a glass of wine to make it &#8220;count.&#8221; I don&#8217;t have to stay up until two in the morning to squeeze everything in. I can let stuff go. I can do things more slowly. And though my house will be dirty and my magazines unread, I think I will be a happier, squabbier, better, mother-and-daughter-and-wife-and-self. Which is really what it&#8217;s all about.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>OK, so you&#8217;re caught up on my blossoming interest in all things Buddhesque. The reason I made you sit through all that was &#8230; well, I&#8217;m not going to lie to you, part of it was because I&#8217;ve just been THINKING so much about it and I wanted to have someone to talk to. But [&#8230;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[8,28],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/855"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=855"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/855\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=855"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=855"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.snarkysquab.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=855"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}