I’m a real hard worker. A perfectionist. (I know the first sentence isn’t grammatically correct.) To be at my best, I need lots of time around people. And time by myself. And sleep. I’m utterly impatient with myself while learning. I just want to do a few given things flawlessly, beautifully. And then be done, basking in the glory of completing something well.

In other words, I’m perfectly ill suited to be a parent. And I’m working. And I feel like I’m losing my mind. But that’s normal, right? (Nervous inner laughter.)

Is it also normal to feel like time is diced up into tiny slivers, or powdery grains of sand? Before Alejandro, time used to feel…chunkier. Like, I could grab a chunka that. A friend’s move, a personal project–yeah, sure, throw a chunka time at those! A walk though Golden Gate park to go to Amoeba Records? Duh. Bar time, beer time? Yeah, man, throw a good ole chunka time towards some q.t. with buddies! Then, sleep in. Toss a big ole chunk o’ time into the Bank of Dreams…

Time still flew by then, but it felt more manageable. If I stayed late at work, which I frequently did, that time would just come out of one of the other chunks I mentioned. No problemo. Life in the kinda-big city, right? Gotta work hard, play hard!

There’s nothing like a small human’s five-minute attention span to remind you that time can get diced up real, real tiny-like. In Ali’s world five minutes is forever. Forever to look at clouds calling out nouns: “I see dinosaur! A train! A bad guy! What’re we doing next?” Or, forever for him could be the five minutes I didn’t show up at his play table because I was trying to make his lunch, do the dishes, or get myself another cup of coffee. “I’m sorry, honey, these five minutes are dedicated to the cast iron pan! And the next five to bathing you, brushing your teeth, and putting on your pj’s!”

When I look at the diagram above, it’s clear there’s madness at hand. Possible solutions: all I have to do is figure out how to bend time…no, to push out time on either side of me! Of course. I could try to build in longer chunks of time, and thus more quiet moments, into my days. If only I knew how to, I would.

I know: retire immediately to Kauai! That island knows how to teach this whole Chill Out Reee-lax lesson…I should look up ticket prices! Get out my credit card, fuck it! Book a trip, yeah!!!

Shoot, I’m fantasizing again. I want to have this lesson learned, to emerge Master of Time and Supreme Archetype of Life/Work Balance. But aside from Kauai, which would cost about $3,000 for the fam, there’s few shortcuts in this life.

While I’m waiting for Modern Baby Jesus to alight on my shoulder and whisper the secret of “loving it all while you’re doing it all,”  I’ll just have to learn the way I always do. By fuddling through and trying real hard to learn somethin’.

Over and out,
M

p.s. I know I not only blasphemed, but mixed religious metaphors in the last paragraph.