Lately the idea of the Glorification of Busy seems to be everywhere my social media news feeds. I find this idea irritating and I would hazard a guess that it was not conceptualised by a women. Not that I am suggesting that women have cornered the market on busyness, but as PC as it may not be it is my experience that it is women who have all the balls juggling in the air. It is women who are making the school lunches before they leave for work, women who are trying to figure out if they can squeeze in that work meeting on their non-work day when they planned to wash the sheets, do the groceries, finally tackle those overflowing kitchen cupboards.
In my world it is the layering of work responsibility on top of motherhood that makes me too busy, but in someone else's life the pressures are different, but just as acute. I find the thesis of the glorification of busy, that I might somehow be manufacturing this chaos because it increases my feelings of self importance to be hilarious. Believe me, given the choice I would much rather park my backside on the couch and knit, or go for a walk, than drag three children around the supermarket or some other unpleasant and unavoidable task.
However, lately I have been reflecting on what is truly essential. I have so many moments where I can physically feel my blood pressure rising, my chest tightening, confusion setting into my mind as the cortisol surges, it happens so frequently that it has becomes my body's disproportionate response to even a slight stressor.
Feeling busy, having a long list of things to do, makes you unable to see the wood for trees, things begin to assume an importance they do not really deserve. But when you are in the middle of it, it is hard to see this truth. Finding the space to take a breath, make a plan and reduce the load does not occur to you in the middle of a stress loop.
Yesterday, I yelled at my children when they made more mess than I could handle. The guilt when things like this happen is strong, we are bombarded with messages of how we should be carefree parents in the moment with our children, not distracted by the lego left on the floor, the clothes in the corner, the unmade bed. Yet at the same time we must keep a perfect house, put a nutritious meal on the table every night and make sure we look good while we are doing it.
I am forming my own thesis, it is okay to be the mother who is irritated by mess, who gets overwhelmed sometimes and yells too much, the one who has too many things to do, I love my children and I am just trying to do my best. And I am trying to find my way through the stress, remembering that I may not be able to chose how busy I am, or how many of those things need to get done, but I can chose how I respond to it.
Today I decided to ignore what needs to be done, and instead do something I wanted to do. It is not really a practical long term solution but something I probably need to do more often.
I found this old dolls high chair at an op shop for $5, I had been looking for one for ages. I repainted it using paint my brother gave me for my birthday from Molly Voodoo Vintage Paint which is kind of a New Zealand Version of the Annie Sloan Chalk Paint, I found it really easy to use. I covered the tray with some off cut oil cloth we have had for years, Miss M is very happy with this new arrangement.
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