Beat the Clock

Not only is Beat-the-Clock a handy motivational/discipline technique for young children, it is also a game I seem to play every morning as I try to get out the door to go to work.

It would be great if I could leave the house by 7:45.  That way, even on bad traffic days, chances are pretty decent that I'd make it to the office by 8:30.  But this very rarely (i.e. practically never) happens. 

Making tea and breakfast

Fortunately, we have flexible working hours at my office.  But I always wish that I could leave the house sooner so that traffic would be better so that I could finish work earlier so I could be at home in time to make dinner without rushing so I could relax a little and enjoy spending some time with the kids.

Sigh.

I've tried getting up earlier.  I've tried getting myself ready first.  I've tried getting the girls ready first.  I've tried showering first while my hubby helps with the girls.  I've tried helping with the girls while he showers first.  I've tried leaving breakfast completely to the nanny.  I've tried having the girls fed before she arrives.  I already skip breakfast at home and wait to eat at the office.  I usually pack my breakfast, lunch, and snacks before I go to bed.  I shower fast.  I don't wear make-up, except for a smidgeon of lipstick that I put on at my desk.  My hair is low maintenance, and I sometimes forget to wear jewellery.  None of this seems to make a difference. 



Teeth brushing and getting girls dressed



I don't want to make excuses.  So these are not excuses.  These are the reasons, in chronological order, for my routine difficulty in leaving the house promptly and getting to the office early each morning: 

• Three little girls who have hair that needs brushing and styling, and three little girls who usually resist.
• At least two little girls who need help brushing their teeth.
• At least one little girl who needs help getting dressed.
• My irrational need to have the beds made and dirty clothes put into the hamper.
• A nanny who, instead of coming in and helping me finish getting breakfast for the girls, sits down at the table and seems to spend at least 5 minutes telling me about the bus driver, the weather, her landlord and/or her husband.
• Me forgetting either my phone, keys, lunch or tea, requiring me to come back into the house and therefore receive another round of good-bye hugs and kisses.
• If my hubby is almost ready to leave as I'm heading out the door, I usually wait and drive him to the subway station.  It is, after all, one of the few moments we get to spend alone together during the day.

I'm working to find solutions to these problems.  I usually spend some time thinking of ideas while I'm stuck in traffic.  But I sometimes wonder: do I have some inner, natural resistance to leaving the house each day; a subconscious desire to stay at home?

Nope.  Don't think so.

So, I'll keep trying to make it out the door before 7:45...  Question is, how will I reward myself if I ever successfully manage to Beat-the-Clock?

Just getting myself dressed now.

To Nap or Not to Nap

That is the question. 

I really love napping.  It is a great escape that allows me to recharge.  It’s not just that I need a break; I really believe in the importance of a siesta. True, sometimes my naps last as long as 2 hours, depending on how long the children are asleep, but I don’t feel guilty.  I justify the duration of my nap by acknowledging that my body must really have needed the rest, right?  Besides, a good nap is so important to my state of mind.  One of my mantras is everything is easier with patience. (Yes, even squabbling children, sassy mouths and tantrums.) And patience is severely limited by exhaustion. 

So, since weekday naps are not looked upon fondly at the office, weekend naptime is sacred.  Even big sister who has outgrown napping gets some quiet time (also known as TV) so that mom and dad can rest too.  And I am grateful for hubby, who usually makes sure I get at least a catnap on the weekends in return for letting him sleep in.

In spite of my great regard and recognition of my sometimes desperate need for a nap, I sometimes still struggle with whether or not I should take one.

Another one of my mantras is do what you can when you can.  Although napping can fit into this guidance as take-a-nap-when-you-can-get-a-nap, it also conflicts with the general principle of efficiency.  Think of it, at least an hour and a half of almost uninterrupted time to get some exercise, do grocery shopping, wash windows, read a book, dust, assemble a baby book, catch up on missed television shows… if I were to give up my weekend naps for a period of two months or so, think of how much I would accomplish.  The Never-Gets-Done List might become obsolete. 

And yet, after making it through a weekend morning, my bed looks oh so inviting.

Alas, it seems that eventually, this inner conundrum may be resolved for me.   Now that our second little girl is 4, the signs are evident that she is on the verge of giving up her afternoon nap.  And the likelihood of having the two sisters quietly entertain themselves for even a catnap-length of time is low.  Squabbling is bound to occur. 

Still, I hope that I’ll be able to fit in a weekend nap occasionally.  It will still be necessary, after all, in order to handle the squabbles, and I’m sure hubby will support me.  But also imagine how much more productive I’ll be…

Gimme a break

I had a great Mother's Day.  I had a fantastic run, a nice brunch, a wonderful nap, and a lovely pizza picnic with ice cream for dessert.  However, it didn't matter so much what I did today that made it nice; it was more about how I felt.

For the past two days, I didn't feel like a very good mom.  I was exhausted, I was trying to do too much, and I was very irritable and grumpy.  The girls were challenging and difficult, and I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I yelled some.  I used my mean mommy voice too often.  I wasn't proud of myself. 

But today, after some time doing things for myself, and a really good nap, I've realised that I just need to give myself a break.  Not in the take-the-day-off, go-for-a-pedicure, or let-someone-else-mind-the-kids kind of break.  These would be nice too, and I'm sure that these would be lovely Mother's Day gestures received by many moms today.  But I'm talking about giving myself a break by easing up on myself, and lowering my expectations a little.

So this was my Mother's Day gift to myself, and I hope to carry it forward in the coming days, weeks and months:

I will accept less than perfect behaviour from myself and my children.  I will remember that they are little and that they need hugs and comfort more than strict discipline.  I'll make sleep and rest a priority so that I don't pass the threshold of grouchiness.  I'll try not to be bothered by toys not put away in their proper place, unswept floors, and unfolded laundry.  I'll let the girls paint their toenails with chalk and dig in the dirt.  I'll try not to be so bothered when they talk back to me or throw a tantrum over some ridiculous request.  I'll put off the grocery shopping, the clothes sorting, the vacuuming and the mending.  I will accept that these are crazy and challenging and difficult times, but remember that childhood only lasts a short while and when it's gone, I will miss it.  I'll remind myself that what's most important is that my children are healthy and happy and loved.

It's not always easy to give myself a break, but I'm sure that my family and I will be much better for it.  Certainly today, taking a deep breath and remembering these things helped all of us enjoy a very nice day.

Happy Mother's Day everyone!