Or it used to be. Then I had a baby.
I knew I wouldn't get much sleep when Niblet was tiny. Everyone warned me about that. It didn't make 3 a.m. feedings any more fun, but knowing they were short-lived did help.
What I didn't know was that, once she stopped waking up in the middle of the night for food, she'd become a pathologically cheerful morning person. And not just for a few months, but (so far anyway) for the entire stretch between infancy and adolescence.
When I was a teenager, my mom always woke me up by 9 a.m. on the weekends. "Wake up!" she'd call from the hallway. "The day is half over! And take a shower! I can smell your hair from here."
At the time, I found it annoying. Now I find it insane.
When you're a parent, there's a very simple golden rule: Kid asleep = Time off. Time off from being responsible, time off from pretending you never eat cookies for breakfast, time off from kid-friendly media, time off from the constant, nagging question: Am I screwing up my kid right now?
Time off means time to work, and I need my work. I need to write, I need to play, I need to create things. Everyone who has that drive knows what I mean by 'need'. Our work is who we are.
It also requires total submersion. It's not something you can dip in and out of in between potty training and marathon viewings of PES videos. At least, it's not something I can dip in and out of. Being a parent means not only putting the needs of your kid first, but doing it without resenting that you're doing it. And when I'm working, I resent every interruption. I resent having to pee.
I can't get my time at 2 a.m. anymore. Now I have to be awake at 6, and I have to be happy about it.
Niblet sneaks into our room in the mornings, comes around to my side of the bed, and says, "Mommy. Mommy. Mom. Mommy? Mom. MOMMY!" until I roll over, squinting. Then she breaks into a huge grin, spreads her arms wide, and says, "It's MORNING TIME!"
Only a gargoyle would snarl in response, but that's what I become if I haven't had enough sleep. So now, I give up my precious nighttime hours. I don't make it anywhere close to midnight, even.
It's taken awhile to get used to my new schedule. Now I get up like every other schlub, take a shower, get Niblet dressed and fed, and and work while she's in school.
Fortunately, I slip into that focused work place pretty easily these days. I'm much more efficient than I used to be. My muse had better show up on time, because I'm here and ready and time is short.
When I was pregnant, people told me that once I was a mom all of my priorities would change. That everything I ever did in life would be for my kid. I think this was meant to make me feel good--it does give one a sense of purpose, after all--but it scared me. What about my work? What about my brain?
Fortunately, my brain is the same as it ever was. When I work, I forget everything and everyone else around me. I forget that I'm a mom, I forget that we're out of milk, I forget that the dirty laundry is threatening to take over the house, and I work.
Just like always. But with daylight.
-Lex
No comments:
Post a Comment