Good intentions
Every morning, with pluck and purpose, I resolve to GET THINGS DONE. All those cleaning and organizing tasks. The backbone of keeping the household infrastructure solid, not to mention behind-the-scenes parenting to guide my teens.
But my best laid plans are hijacked by writing, by kids, and the immediacy of both: the need to write when I first wake, and the slew of spontaneous requests that divide my day, and then that’s that.
Perhaps my priorities require chiropractic realignment. Perhaps I’m living the typical life of the single parent. Perhaps I’m too accommodating. But my younger son worked hard this year. Soon he’s off to a rigorous academic program, and I want him to enjoy his short break. So, when his social life insinuates itself into my afternoons and evenings, generally, I drop what I’m doing and put his needs first.
Which brings me back to good intentions.
I would like to accommodate my son graciously (success, some of the time). And, I want organized surroundings – more pleasant for my kids, and more productive for me. (No success there, whatsoever.)
The best laid plans
Don’t we all carry an image of what love, family, home, and career should be?
We cling to our illusions even if the reality isn’t what we anticipated. How could it be? We’re clueless when we first enter the work world, when we start out in marriage, when we become parents. Fatigue, money issues, boredom, conflicting logistics – none of this is what we signed up for.
Marriage is harder than we realize. Babies own our hearts and jostle our beliefs. As children grow, we come to understand that parenting is sloppy, demanding, exhausting. Couples often grow apart. Some dig in and make it work. Others don’t, for a variety of reasons. Some of us find ourselves parenting alone, though single parenthood was certainly not our intention. Daily life is a constant flood; we hold a finger in the dike, for months, or years, wondering when something will change.
Those best laid plans? They’ve been laid to rest.
Priorities
I rise early. My energy is limited. When my son wakes, we often have a long list of errands to take care of – for him. The hours will disappear, and when we return, no amount of coffee will prop me up to tend to the day’s attempts at order.
Are my priorities out of whack? Do I stop writing? Searching on job boards? Putting parenting first? Should I literally get my house in order before all else?
I am used to “whatever it takes” to get through the days (and years), to managed chaos as a lifestyle, though I can think of plenty others I’d prefer! I am used to mess, though it feels like a stranglehold and worse – a mockery of a life I once lived when there were fewer worries and a different sense of time – not clocking time, not counting down. Savoring.
Managed chaos
There is beauty in this chaos and I know that. Books and art. Warm memories. It is a fine mess, but nonetheless an overwhelming one. I stubbornly believe that I can make order here, someday, knowing my intentions have been in the right place, but I am unable to realize them.
My home is a metaphor for good intentions, for everything unrealized, and perhaps that is what oppresses me.
- What use are good intentions if we cannot execute?
- At what point are intentions irrelevant?
- For some of us, is managed chaos as good as it gets?
I try to look on the bright side: I still wake with the desire to get things done, envisioning a simpler life. I know I have provided a constant parental presence. When my son is away, maybe I’ll make that dent. And then another, and another. Because I don’t want my children to recall quite so much of the real life mess that has inundated the best laid plans. I’d like them to believe that they can do better.
That means I need to do better, even when plans go awry.
dadshouse says
I can relate. So many things in my house go undone. But rather than wake with intentions to knock them off some illusory list, I simply let go… I tend to the daily routine, encourage my kids to help and/or be self-sufficient, and marvel at how many things need to get done, but probably won’t. No worries, be happy.
April says
Oh, I SO relate to this post! There are so many things nagging at me that I haven’t done, or things I could do better. I don’t have the physical ailments you’re experiencing, but there still are just too many things going on.
Belinda Munoz + The Halfway Point says
I have a post brewing about whether or not good intentions count. It’s a question I ask myself daily and have learned to answer with a yes.
I think any parent will always have more to do in a day than we can get done so I’ve switched my thinking from “I can do it all” to “I’ll do what I can”. I’ve gotten very good at cleaning in short bursts, sometimes less than 5 mins. Oddly, it relaxes me to clear a surface or toss old toys and knick knacks that no one would miss.
At any given time, I’ll have a “simplicity” project. If I happen to find myself in the kitchen with ten minutes to spare, I’ll pull out utensils I don’t use and throw them in a Goodwill bag. Or I’ll poke around in closets (doesn’t matter whose) and pull out anything that doesn’t get worn to donate to charity.
Do I get everything done? Not nearly. But I challenge myself in a less-than-a-drag way (What books can I trade in? What cds can I trade in?) and fit in mini projects into tiny windows. The key for me is to never clean for more than 30 mins. (Laundry doesn’t count because it kind of does itself. Sorting? Yes. Folding? No. Honestly.)
Kristen @ Motherese says
I admire your dedication to your sons, and your commitment that they not “recall quite so much of the real life mess that has inundated the best laid plans.” It never ceases to amaze me the ways in which plans are derailed by the realities and exigencies of parenthood. Even on the very best days I’ve learned that children are nature’s way of laughing at my Type A nature. And then when you add in the other stands at life’s amusement park (health, money, relationships), forget about it.
It sounds like Belinda has some answers. I wonder if she hires out. 🙂
BigLittleWolf says
It does sound like Belinda has some answers! “I’ll do what I can.” I like it.
Rudri says
I struggle with “Getting things Done” phenomena. Every night, I make my to-do list, with every intention of crossing through all of the important items. Those intentions don’t always translate into accomplishing anything I needed to do.
I have a clean house because I sometimes use cleaning as an excuse to get away from working on my novel. I need to swing the balance in the other direction, by spending less time on cleaning and more time on my novel.
I love the fact that you write first thing in the morning. I’ve promised myself to do that for years, but with a four year old, I carve out time whenever I can to write.
BigLittleWolf says
A clean house, Rudri! (How wonderful.) As for morning writing, I’ve done it literally for decades. When my kids were babies, I did it as well. It’s just that it was at 3 or 4 in the morning. . . 🙂
Amber says
I am finally getting to a point where I am managing the chaos of our everyday life. But with the smallest shift, the crumbly foundation I was building upon collapses and I try to pick up the pieces and rebuild. Something I am slowly learning is that my children need me at my best self–not a tired, cranky mom. I must be willing to sacrifice certain things in order to be that mom for them.
BigLittleWolf says
Amber,
It does seem like the smallest shift has considerable ripple effects, doesn’t it? Things do get easier when they go to school, and when they’re in school. (At least you’re sleeping some again.) But while the tasks change, I find the phenomenon remains the same, to varying degrees. And that “best self” you mention. It’s hard, isn’t it? And maybe we should make that “best self I can” – on any given day.
Stacia says
One of my graduate classes focused on time, and we spent a whole lot of time (ha!) talking about the ways our society commodifies it: We spend it, we buy it, we borrow it, we lose it, we give it, etc. It’s the one thing people can’t get enough of (well, time and, perhaps, money). Whenever I steal glances at my never-ending to-do list, I always think of that class and the race against the clock that each day brings. It’s always a challenge, and never an easy one to solve.
Contemporary Troubadour says
I admire your morning writing routine — I need to build that time in better into my day. If I could wake feeling rested at 5 a.m., that might work. But that’s a big if at the moment.
LisaF says
Blessed are the flexible for they shall never get bent out of shape. I can’t take credit for that line, but I certainly try and live by it. I learned a long time ago to let go of the Norman Rockwell picture of family, parenting and marriage. Life is messy. Rather than managed chaos, my life is more Organized Chaos. Much like my office desk at the moment.
BigLittleWolf says
What a great line, Lisa! Organized chaos is my “goal state.” 🙂
Christine LaRocque says
“Daily life is a constant flood,” yes, of this I am certain. And you never know what ripples or waves that flood will produce. And for me, that is the hardest part of parenthood, of life. It’s the unpredictability of it that often sets me off course, that I struggle to manage. But each morning I get up with a sense of purpose and a goal to get through. Some days (particularly recently) are so much easier, and others not so much. But it’s all important in laying the foundation for our children. And though each task might seem menial, without affect, I feel certain that over time they add up into something quiet wondrous, and that is our children grown up and moving on and living life.
Jenn says
Absolutely yes it is necessary to continue to have good intentions even if we cannot always execute. It’s like having a higher consciousness of what should be and how we should be–always striving to be better–a better parent, spouse, friend, whatever. The key is to not be too hard on yourself and keep perspective if you fall short some days. Oh yes, and prioritizing always helps me–because, really, who can ‘do it all’?
BigLittleWolf says
You make a great point – but – why is it we feel like we should be able to do it all?