I used to mentally roll my eyes when I heard people say they didn't have time for something. Especially when it was something undeniably beneficial, like exercise or meditation.
If it were really important to them, they'd make time for it, I said to myself, adjusting my Judge-y Pants.
After all, I was pretty good at making time for things that mattered to me, carving out fifteen minutes here, a half-hour there.
And then I had a second child.
Some days, I don't feel like I have enough time to catch my breath. I squeeze the basics—feeding and and clothing myself—in when I can, and often end up with simple chores and projects half-finished. Because somebody always needs my attention.
They're not so difficult to attend to, these somebodies of mine. Loving them is easy, even on my worst days. But in terms in terms of time, two children is so many more than one child. It's not Our Family Dynamic + 1, as I had (naively) imagined. Instead, it's Dadaist math. 1 + 1 = giant squid.
Really, how am I supposed to make time for anything when there's this giant squid in the living room?
I have a long "wish list" of life-enhancing activities I'd like to fit in: reading, journaling, real yoga (not just a stretch here and there), better exercise, the occasional movie-watching-on-the-couch-with-Rob-and-wine evening. (Not to mention the things I really need to fit in, like those doctor and dentist appointments I never rescheduled.) But it won't all fit into that hour-and-change between the time when the kids going to sleep and the time I should be getting in bed myself. So where do I start? What do I prioritize?
I know I can't do it all all of the time. I'm not even sure "doing it all" should be the goal. (In fact, I think the idea of doing or having it all might just be a sneaky, sexist way of controlling women by telling us that we can change the world as long as we also maintain beautiful homes and look hot. But that's another story for another time.) I also know that this version of my life will not be my life forever. Westley starts kindergarten in the fall; that will change our time. Ivy will learn to crawl and talk and drink from a cup and nap without being nursed and swaddled; that will change our time. Two won't always feel like quite so many.
Still, I will never judge anyone for "not having enough time" again.