I outwardly project competence and control. I lead, I manage, I get things done. If you look closely, though, you can see my tells for when things are not actually under control at all (which lately seems like a permanent setting).
- I prefer to wear jeans daily, but only own one pair
- I purchase groceries with lunch for both our nanny and myself in mind, but buy my lunch 90% of the time (or buy more food after eating my packed lunch at 10:30 am)
- I have had a referral for a pelvic physiotherapist for several months but have not looked up where one is, or tried to make an appointment
- Spud’s hair is in his eyes again and I
haven’t called to make him a haircut appointmentlet this blog post guilt me into calling and leaving a message
- I have dropped a few relatively large balls at work lately, all of which I have fixed by throwing money at problems. This is effective but not ideal in a world of dwindling grant amounts
I realize there is only so much I can do. I also realize a busy toddler and pre-tenure are difficult things to balance. But I think I’m more out of control and more often out of control than is reasonable. I came home on Wednesday after a long day of meetings and couldn’t face cooking. Pea felt the same, so we ordered burritos after feeding Spud some leftovers and a mishmash of available veg. I reflected on the services I have currently facilitating my life, and came up with this for Wednesday alone:
- someone made the sandwich I bought for second lunch
- our lawn guys came and mowed the lawn
- our cleaning service came and cleaned the house top to bottom
- our nanny washed, dried, and put away a load of Spud’s laundry
- our nanny ran and emptied the dishwasher
- our nanny took the initiative to vacuum Spud’s floor, as he’d been asleep when the cleaners were here
- a restaurant made our dinner, and a driver delivered it to us
I did one load of laundry, and folded a different one. Pea and I watched some episodes of our new show and cuddled. I went to bed slightly later than planned after finishing my book.
I conclude that there is not really any good reason that I feel out of control, and that control could be achieved were it prioritized. I would rather cuddle with Pea than shop for jeans, we would both rather spend money than do certain chores, and I still don’t want to let work infiltrate into my home life unless absolutely necessary, so balls will likely continue to be dropped.
In the meantime, I’m going to continue to check my privilege, as I am well aware many of my coping mechanisms for this period of life are not available to many.