1 Hour, 3x/Week - I’m on the List

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I’m making a Summer commitment to myself. I’m going to get my butt in a chair with a writing implement for one hour, three times a week.

I’m thinking Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. Historically, I’m more of an every day or never kind of routine person. But that’s not working for me.

I keep remembering times in my past when I had great work discipline. And then I remember that those times were times when I was childless and single. 

My days and hours today are different from those days and hours. The output is different, less tangible than my work product used to be. 

These days my hours and my energy are invested in play dates and snacks and lunches and community-building. Home-tending. Life-tending. 

So those grand expanses of solitude that used to just be there for the taking are not there anymore. I have to chisel some out for myself. And more intentionally than I have been doing, I think. More consistently, like protect those times. 

And it hurts to think about doing that, actually, this Summer, with Ax being a conscientious objector to Summer Camp. It hurts to think about doing stuff that does not include him when I know his time of wanting to be with me as he does now is so very limited. 

Maybe even next year or next week he’ll decide that mom is not the one he wants to be with most. But right now, he’s into me. Part of me is screaming, “Spend every second you can on him while you can.”

And then part of me, a big part, really doesn’t enjoy legos or weird throwing stuffed animals games or even chess. I’m a 40-something woman and he’s a 7-year-old boy. We have different interests and needs.

So it’s again, that teasing out of what I need versus what I think he needs of me versus this, that, and the other thing. But I’m on the list. I’m at the top of my list, in fact, where I should be. Or somewhere near the top, at least. I’m gonna keep going.