Dude, One Bite at a Time
How are we managing the mothering load, right now?
Lately, our 21-month-old toddler guy has been non-stop asking for crunchy snacks. And after the first time we took him on a snacky stroller walk, during which he got to relax and kick back, while mom and dad pushed the double stroller and handed him bites of graham cracker any time his little gremlin hand stretched out from his bucket seat…he was hooked. Now, every time we go for a walk, this kid thinks *~its crunching time~* and he’ll sweetly and repeatedly ask for “one, TWO crackers??” The first is for snacking on while the second waits briefly in the wings.
Ever since our guy started consistently eating solids, I’ve had to remind him to chew and finish each bite before pushing another fistful of whatever favorite food he’s noshing down the hatch. He’s an enthusiastic eater and I can see in his eyes that one bite just simply doesn’t feel fast enough, good enough, enough enough.
Similarly, he will come home from daycare with a clear, premeditated plan for play. These days, he wants outside, then bubbles, then snack, and on from there.
As with so much in life, coaching my son through his ambitious, full-throttle approach to toddlerhood can teach me a similar lesson about slowing down. Lately, life’s to-do list has felt overpowering and all-consuming. My brain has about a thousand tabs open.
Can anyone relate? Trick question, I know you can.
The tabs on my personal browser currently toggle from job applications and corporate networking, to signs of anaphylaxis in babies, to pest control for an ant infestation, and options for selling our car.
The questions rattle through my weary mind as I wake up to nurse our little baby overnight: Our cat is licking the fur off her belly - why?! What should our son’s next pair of shoes be? What’s going on with his left ankle brace and why does he always take the left one off!? When should I start my tomato seeds and where will I put the grow light so the cat and toddler won’t knock it down??
I calm myself down enough to dull the frenzy of that late night anxiety. But then, that persistent, back of my mind drum beat shows up in dreams. Bang, bang, tornados are coming. Bang, bang, we need to go to Costco. Boom, boom, we need to do our taxes. Boom, boom, vacuum the stairs!
It’s no secret I’m describing the oppressive mental load predominantly carried by mothers. But, I don’t raise this topic to direct conversation towards the division of labor in my own (or your own) household. Not only has that path been well travelled, both on a personal level and in the broader parenting media ecosystem, but to be totally honest, I’m one of the lucky ones. My husband more than contributes to solving and managing many of the issues I just listed.
What I do want to investigate further - because it really does feel so dang heavy - is how we are managing the feelings of overwhelm and exhaustion that come with the never ending laundry list of challenges and tasks to work through, as parents.
How are we navigating the world being on fire while our children need new shoes and fun birthdays?
Perhaps I’m a rare bird, in that I have no desire or impulse to delay doing hard shit. Starting the essay due on Monday late on Sunday night? I don’t know what that’s like. I had a bulleted outline drafted the minute after it was assigned. As a mom, I see a new problem and I want to whack-a-mole it into the ground immediately. And yet, taking this problem-solving approach is impossible as a parent to little kids. We learn to sit on our own needs and issues, because nap time and poopy diapers and play, play, play come first. As they should.
But I struggle in the waiting. My true desire is to solve the insurmountable to-do list that sits in front of me vigorously and quickly. In this way, I’m just like my son. So, I need to listen to my own guidance here.
Dude, one bite at a time.
I’d love to collect some management tactics from the amazing maternal hive mind that I know exists and supports each other so beautifully here on Substack.
For now, I’ll share one feeble coping tactic I took into this past weekend, taken out of the soft living playbook.
I put down my phone for an entire Saturday. We had unseasonably warm weather and a cobbled-together neighborhood St. Patty’s parade to attend. We spent the day climbing up a metal slide from the 1960s, squealing on the way down, and staring at the beautiful, frigid waters on the shores of our recently thawed Great Lake. We checked out a fire truck and a sandbox. We threw balls willy-nilly around the grandparents’ back yard. For that day, my to-do list was a carbon copy of my son’s.
-LJ
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