A friend of mine shared
this article on her blog and I thought it hit the nail on the head.
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Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:
An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says
something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."
Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to
seize the moment,
raise my awareness,
be happy, enjoy
every second, etc, etc, etc.
I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that
it just doesn't work for me.
It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky.
Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids.
Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry
that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy,
I'm doing something wrong.
I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a
little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it
because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they
believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive
accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow
themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and
drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it
hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard.
These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the
top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any
climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous,
exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.
And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "
ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.
Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to
ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies.
Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target
line and said the following: "
Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."
At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was
buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must
have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon
feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from
Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was
grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in
front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman,
smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single
moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."
That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.
There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing,
replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this
sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love
having parented?"
I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part
of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I
sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap,
and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.
Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm
being negative. I have received this particular message four or five
times --
G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?
That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is
hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the
second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest
that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add
more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing
it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.
Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he
comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I
don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or
that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he
shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt
anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt
his boss peeks in his office and says: "
This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"
My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a
good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough.
Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy
every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT
like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt
guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to
be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and
the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store
with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every
moment? No.
But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope
to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the
younger mama gritting her teeth in line:
"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I
like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my
favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add --
"Let
me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the
van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."
Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe
fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.
Here's what does work for me:
There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live
in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the
clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target
line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours
till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we
parents often live in.
Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of
time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time
stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish
them.
Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I
notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the
perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I
breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth
is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is --
This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.
Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm
haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I
look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I
notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow
their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas
would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line
with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance.
The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.
Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and
Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a
moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each
night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth?
Kairos.
These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I
say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end
of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I
remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting
climb worth it.
If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.
Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.
Good enough for me.
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