Lazy Moms

A Mom who belongs to a Yahoo Group that I am a part of recently mentioned that her feeding decisions were based on her laziness. I'd like to second that. Laziness and cheapness (or, hem, frugality?) have influenced so many of my parenting decisions. In the frugal department, I sort of made it my goal to see how few baby items I could accumulate. Really didn't want to spend extra money on themed nursery gear.... As far as my laziness goes, I always figured that if my kid could do something for herself, then why should I baby her more than I already do?

I mean, kids are supposed to be babies in some ways (nursing, sleep habits, etc) but why extend parts of that babyhood rather than teaching them grown-up habits like eating for themselves (with a fork! -- drives me nuts when restaurant servers don't bring a set of silverware for my kids, but I suppose many people don't give their kids forks this early...), drinking from a cup (15 mos), helping to clean up spills they've made, or putting away their toys. And it helps that if you're nursing your kid, you don't have to worry about him getting all and enough of the right nutrients from food.

However, lest anyone fear are putting ourselves down by using the word "lazy" (as my brother told me, "lazy Mom" is an oxymoron), may I suggest that we are simply unwilling to make raising children harder than it is by introducing all sorts of intermediate steps (depending on the parent, pureed food, a crib, sippy cups... though I admit to doing some of these at times and not others, whatever makes the situation easier at the time) or by forcing "independence" earlier than necessary. And one Mom's lazy list will look different than another's, so please do not take offense at my list or assume that it is complete or preferred. All that said, I also don't like to contrive politically correct words for things, so I am still going to refer to myself as lazy.

Here's to all my fellow lazy Moms!

The Laundry Quandry

I think I am finally a convert to FlyLady's one load at a time idea. You do it all the way through (to folded and put away) before starting another one, and I may even start shooting for just one load a day, instead of trying to get "caught up" all the time and totally burning out on laundry. I'm not saying this will work for everyone, and if you have a working system in place, by all means use it! Some things I've realized...

One load a day: I do the laundry in fits and starts anyway. I bet if I spread the loads out to one a day, it would average out to one per day (excluding weekends), with maybe two loads here and there when I'm washing sheets.

One load at a time: again, unless I'm washing a load of sheets, I'd better do this, or I end up with clothes drying in the bathroom, folded in the basket, or in a pile somewhere.

One laundry basket!! Some time ago I switched to using one basket (and it's a small one too). This forces me to empty the basket (hopefully by putting the laundry away!) before I bring up or down another load. This has eliminated baskets of clean laundry all over the house.

One FULL load a day: we pay for our laundry in the basement of our apartment. The dryer does not work very well. If I'm only shooting for one load, I can afford (money AND time-wise) to run the dryer twice and get everything actually dry. Benefits are twofold: the clothes don't need to finish drying all over the bathroom and I can put them away when they come upstairs; and I can wash a few more items in that load than I would if I were trying to get it dry on one cycle because I'll be drying it twice!

And finally, I have shifted my idea of the "goal" of doing the laundry. I used to think that what you are striving for when you do the laundry should be almost no laundry all the time. I have decided that what I should be striving for is enough clean laundry to function. That means that there will always be a couple of loads in the sorter in the closet. As long as we are not constantly running out of towels or underwear, this is OK! People used to have one shirt to wear, one for the laundry, and one in the closet. Having something dirty and waiting to be washed is a natural part of that cycle. I am NOT failing if there are things that need to be washed, as long as I have clothes in the closet that can be worn.

And one other thing I have started to do is pull the dirty clothes from the bottom of the sorter first. Otherwise, I am constantly washing the same five shirts on top and the stuff at the bottom gets unworn for long periods of time.

Try Again?

And today I try a different writing preparation tactic: I am in my pajamas, last night's dinner dishes and this morning's breakfast ones mingle in the sink, crumbs are on my counters and table. And I write while I can! Because if I leave it too long it just might take over my life!

And my husband and kids miss me....

"Too Busy Not To...

...Pray, " goes the original saying. That is certainly the truth. While I don't always succeed at having a formal prayer time at the same time every day (or even at all every day), I try to at the very least pray short prayers throughout the day: "Pray at the seams of the day," says my priest. During my morning routine, I try to say Morning Prayers and a few Matins psalms. Before beginning dinner, I try to say a Vesper's Psalm -- OK, at least I try to cross myself before making dinner: I see this as a prayer without words.

Prayer should still be the foundation of our day; but this week, I have become aware that I am especially "too busy not to finally put my routines into practice." I have finally been given a writing project from a company I signed up with a few months ago. I didn't expect it to happen this week: I had plenty of things planned already! So, to keep myself and the house from falling apart in the process (stressing out myself and my husband, and probably the kids too), I have been focusing on my routines.

I awake feeling the pressure of a project for which I am not completely prepared or entirely confident in my abilities, but I know that I will be inefficient in my work and precious little around the house will get done if I jump onto the computer in my pajamas, with a cup of coffee as my breakfast, and with my bed unmade and my cat box full of... well, you get the picture. I see it as motivation to finally reclaim my routines and reap the rewards of having them under my belt.

So, before I begin to attack today's list, I am clothed (and showered!), my bed is made, my bathroom Swished and Swiped, my cat box scooped, oatmeal with blueberry jam is in my tummy, my dishes from breakfast are done, and my dining table and kitchen counters are wiped down (OK, I still see some oatmeal flakes on the counter -- we're not going for Martha Stewart here, just FlyLady). And before I begin, I should also say a prayer.

A rare opportunity for a rambling post!

This may be very random, but I have both little ones sleeping, the only sound I hear is the hum/rattle of the dryer. (The dryer is almost constantly running in this house.) I was thinking this morning about how I baby my baby. She is almost 20 months old, and I still carry and hold her a lot. She is small for her age, and I know she is my last baby, so that is part of it. Sometimes I feel guilty that maybe I am "spoiling" her...but I know she will only be tiny for a little while, so I am cherishing the times that I can hold and squish and cuddle her.
I've also been thinking about the blessing of the older seasons of childhood. My oldest two are able (not always willing, but able!) to help a lot more, and it frees me up for things I have to get done sometimes. Some days-SOME, not all-it is actually easier having 4 kids than it was having 2. I can have one of the older ones entertain and watch when I have to run out to the van and get something. I can have one of the older ones buckle or unbuckle the younger ones' car seats, too. I know sometimes they really hate having to help, but I hope they are learning about compassion and about family working together.
Well, there was the buzz of the dryer. I should fold that laundry now while it is peaceful, and then...I am actually contemplating taking a nap! That doesn't happen often! :) I wish you all a grand afternoon.

Seven Months and Counting

I sit typing this with one hand, holding a seven-month-old baby to my left breast with my left hand as my nearly three-year-old daughter sneaks under my right arm to nurse on the right, the side I'm typing with. I have been tandem nursing now for seven months, and it has been an interesting experience. At no point has it really been easy; however, it has been doable and, at times, even pleasurable.

Like this afternoon when I was able to coordinate our three naps into the same two-hour period, my baby's warm head cradled sweatily on my arm, my toddler draped over my other side to reach the breast slightly tilted away from her for the baby's benefit. We listened to the newly-returned birds chirping in the tree outside the window, finally open to admit a cool Spring breeze. One available breast persuaded my baby to close her eyes a little earlier than she might have, and the other drew my toddler to me like an alphabet magnet is drawn to the fridge, helping me convince her to stay put instead of "play toys" just long enough to bring on sleep. Snuggled under the comforter on our king-size bed, we drifted off, the day-time sleep healing to me and simply a part of daily life for my children.

So it is with afternoons like this that I number the months of nursing two, not thinking too much about how and when and if I will ever nurse just one again, hoping it will not evolve into nursing three (I may have to put my foot down somewhere). But for now, I dwell in the moments that I find enjoyable, the baby playing with the toddler's hair, the toddler trying to manipulate my breast back into the distracted baby's mouth ("Have a milk! Have a milk!" she says), the two of them holding hands, looking into each other's eyes, and gulping down my gift to them, my milk.

Perfectionism

As a typical "SHE" (Sidetracked Home Executive), I began this blog in a whirlwind of inspiration and excitement. I whipped out an introductory post in about ten minutes, April jumped in with her hilarious (and so familiar) sleeping-in time line, and I had plenty of ideas for new posts. But every time I thought about beginning a new post, something would stop me. I can't post another time line right after April's. I can't post about that -- it would sound cliché. I can't post about this, I'd overuse my fighting metaphor. It's not going to sound right. I don't have time to make this perfect. And so I post nothing.

As FlyLady is fond of pointing out, it is often perfectionism that causes people to procrastinate or to do nothing at all. Our sinks contain dirty dishes because we think we don't have time to do them all. We couldn't possibly do just a few when we have time -- or as we use them. Our floors have "crusties" on them because we don't have time to sweep the whole house (or clean the whole house, because we have to do this housecleaning thing right). It doesn't occur to us to sweep one room's floor or simply under the table after a meal. Our kid's doctor appointments (let's forget our own) go unscheduled, our walls unpainted, and our blogs unposted because we haven't found the perfect time, the perfect color, the perfect words.

For most things, we just need to start somewhere. "Starting is the hardest part," everyone tells us. But when all we see as we look at a project, or even what should be a simple task, is the whole (magazine-perfect) picture, then how do we begin? What if we truly cannot find a starting point? What if we do not even realize that beginning means "finding a starting point," which involves being able to break down a task into smaller pieces?

Everything we do can be broken down into manageable tasks. Everything. And especially the things we think we cannot do. It is easier to do this with some things than with others, but the principle still applies. If I want to write a blog post, some days the inspiration will fall from heaven (those are the fun days), but other days, I just have to start writing. If want I write doesn't work, I don't have to post it. I can throw it away. If I want to paint my bedroom, I have to make some decisions, do some window shopping or pick a theme or pattern I would like to emphasize in that room. If I don't like the color, I can paint over it.

Or is something else stopping me? Am I failing to begin because I don't want to (or don't know how to) do the work myself? Can I find someone to show me or do it for me? Am I avoiding my broom because it is shaped like a paintbrush instead of having a flat end that actually moves the dirt into the dustpan? (Ask my mother and mother-in-law about their opinion of my old broom.) Obviously, I need to replace my tool for this job.

It takes practice to analyze our actions and thoughts and to discern our reasons for them. FlyLady has helped me to learn to do this, but it took me a long time to be good at it. The constant inner-monologue argument can be exhausting, but it is worth it if we come out better people with more dishes done, more rooms decorated, more blog posts written.