Margin
Another post about being insanely busy. Feel free to skip, since you’ve heard it before. I swear I don’t like living this way, despite the fact that I can’t seem to change.
(This is another post of 50-word-or-fewer paragraphs. Seems appropriate for the subject matter. Plus, you all seemed to enjoy it last time.)
When I was younger, before kids, being busy meant that maybe I skipped going to the gym. Or I worked late instead of meeting a friend for dinner. Now, it’s an entirely different game.
Been spinning in circles trying to stay balanced. During a recent trip to Virginia my sister-in-law, a mom whom I respect greatly, talked about the ways she works to build “margin” into her and her family’s schedule. That’s the word for what I’m missing: margin.
Every minute is accounted for, busy, and if it’s not, there’s something slipping. I forget forms for school, I handwash undies the night before lest I go commando to work because I haven’t done laundry.
People actually call to ask if I’m still blogging. I am grateful for recent rain because I haven’t had time to water my garden. I blow off necessary, but “optional,” things like returning library books. Funnydad does lots, this isn’t a matter of marital workload balance. It’s much harder to fix.
So I clean out the garage. It looks awesome, and (bonus) the pile for our neighborhood yard sale is larger than I expected. It feels good to have something clutter-free. I go upstairs and tackle my sock drawer.
At Quaker Meeting a friend and I talk about this very thing: what does simplicity mean these days, and how does a working mom achieve it? For her elminating clutter is not part if it. I don’t tell her about the garage. Instead I tell her about my sister-in-law’s margin.
Is the route to simplicity with a margin? It’s appealing, though easy to say and hard to do. Margin becomes a goal. It’s more concrete than saying a blanket “I have to stop doing so much.” But I’m not even sure I know what margin feels like. I don’t think I’ve ever lived that way.
I'm always doing something. Pasta's boiling, so I empty the dishwasher. Kids are getting in their car seats, so I take out the compost. Is this at odds with margin? I'm not sure. Feels productive to me, but maybe that's because I'm desensitized.
I drop the kids at school, go to work, then go straight from work to pick them up. This doesn't seem abnormal. Is this where I'm lacking margin? There is no obvious answer -- there's no "Oh, if only I stopped trying to learn Italian, things would be more sane."
A call for comments: Anyone know? How do you build margin into your life?
(This is another post of 50-word-or-fewer paragraphs. Seems appropriate for the subject matter. Plus, you all seemed to enjoy it last time.)
When I was younger, before kids, being busy meant that maybe I skipped going to the gym. Or I worked late instead of meeting a friend for dinner. Now, it’s an entirely different game.
Been spinning in circles trying to stay balanced. During a recent trip to Virginia my sister-in-law, a mom whom I respect greatly, talked about the ways she works to build “margin” into her and her family’s schedule. That’s the word for what I’m missing: margin.
Every minute is accounted for, busy, and if it’s not, there’s something slipping. I forget forms for school, I handwash undies the night before lest I go commando to work because I haven’t done laundry.
People actually call to ask if I’m still blogging. I am grateful for recent rain because I haven’t had time to water my garden. I blow off necessary, but “optional,” things like returning library books. Funnydad does lots, this isn’t a matter of marital workload balance. It’s much harder to fix.
So I clean out the garage. It looks awesome, and (bonus) the pile for our neighborhood yard sale is larger than I expected. It feels good to have something clutter-free. I go upstairs and tackle my sock drawer.
At Quaker Meeting a friend and I talk about this very thing: what does simplicity mean these days, and how does a working mom achieve it? For her elminating clutter is not part if it. I don’t tell her about the garage. Instead I tell her about my sister-in-law’s margin.
Is the route to simplicity with a margin? It’s appealing, though easy to say and hard to do. Margin becomes a goal. It’s more concrete than saying a blanket “I have to stop doing so much.” But I’m not even sure I know what margin feels like. I don’t think I’ve ever lived that way.
I'm always doing something. Pasta's boiling, so I empty the dishwasher. Kids are getting in their car seats, so I take out the compost. Is this at odds with margin? I'm not sure. Feels productive to me, but maybe that's because I'm desensitized.
I drop the kids at school, go to work, then go straight from work to pick them up. This doesn't seem abnormal. Is this where I'm lacking margin? There is no obvious answer -- there's no "Oh, if only I stopped trying to learn Italian, things would be more sane."
A call for comments: Anyone know? How do you build margin into your life?
Comments
as for margin specifically, i do the while-my-bagel-is-toasting,-i'll-put-in-a-load-of-laundry thing. i'm all about using those little snips of time. why? because otherwise, those tiny tasks that really don't take any time at all never get done. i never set aside a minute to do something. ever. so if i don't use the minutes during which i'd otherwise be tapping my fingers and waiting for the microwave, toaster, pot to boil, or whatever, they'd never get done. sometimes it's just a little thing, like bringing in and reading the mail while waiting for the microwave. but that's mail that i've now read, discarded, shredded, or processed that won't get added to an intimidating and ugly pile in the dining room for saturday.
my favorite thing about flylady is boundaries. i can do anything for 15 minutes. really. almost. i can't run for 15 minutes, and i couldn't saw my arm off for 15 minutes, but other than that, really. so i grab three boxes, one lined with a trash bag (even a little one), put my iphone on and set the timer on it for 15 minutes. my job is simple and focused, assigned by her: declutter until the timer goes off. do nothing else. decluttering means, starting with the entrance to the room assigned (the bathroom, say) and moving clockwise, every item needs to be tossed (put into the lined box), donated (put into another box), put away in another room (put into the third box), or put away in this room. those are the only options. no cleaning, no getting distracted. i did this for 15 minutes monday and one whole cabinet of the bathroom is cleared off. it's not *clean*; that will be assigned another day, and if it makes me crazy before then, i can clean it. so physical boundaries + temporal boundaries make it okay. and when i don't get it done (headache days are hard), it's okay. she emphasizes not trying to catch up, just pick up where she assigns you the next time.
anyway, that's how i'm trying. love and hugs, me.