naptime guilt
Now that my dissertation is done, or at least turned in to my committee (they may yet suggest revisions, but I doubt any of them have read it yet), Daniel's naptime is now my free time again. True, I have a big recital in just over three weeks, but I don't risk practicing while he's sleeping any more. (Usually I get most practicing done on the weekend and in the early evening when Stuart's home from work, and if I need extra time, I have the sitter come over.)
This feels weird, this hour or so in the middle of the day when I can do what I want. Daniel was a terrible napper until early this summer. At that time, first-trimester fatigue had me so wiped out I would either sit on the couch staring into space or nod off while he slept. By the time he started sleeping more than 30 minutes in a stretch (though still at completely unpredictable times), I was frantically writing every chance I got, so his naptime wasn't a "break" so much as a free hour to work on my paper (by "free," I mean I wasn't paying a sitter--it really adds up, you know). And now, I'm not sure what to do with myself. I usually get some cleaning done, and take care of laundry or diaper-washing, and if I'm feeling particularly motivated and housewifely, I might even get dinner started. Sometimes there is important school-related emailing to do as well.
But if I let myself read a book or knit or putter around online for more than five or ten minutes at a time instead of doing those eye-crossingly boring yet essential tasks, I feel a sense of something not right. I guess it's guilt, that feeling of spending my time relaxing in the middle of a perfectly good workday, knowing I could get other things accomplished. I even feel a little guilty about blogging right now, even though I got a solid practice session in this morning and the dishes are clean...but the diapers in the washing machine need another cycle and there is a mess on the computer desk that is mostly mine, and we need another batch of bread and there are probably 100 other mundane things I could think of to do that would make me feel like I'm not lazy if I actually do them.
I'm not looking for re-assurance here. Everyone who reads this could say "Susan, you deserve that break! You need it! Just relax!"; heaven knows enough people have told me that already--my mom, my husband, my friends who also have kids. It won't change anything, though. I will still feel like I'm being unproductive and that it's somehow wrong.
This feels weird, this hour or so in the middle of the day when I can do what I want. Daniel was a terrible napper until early this summer. At that time, first-trimester fatigue had me so wiped out I would either sit on the couch staring into space or nod off while he slept. By the time he started sleeping more than 30 minutes in a stretch (though still at completely unpredictable times), I was frantically writing every chance I got, so his naptime wasn't a "break" so much as a free hour to work on my paper (by "free," I mean I wasn't paying a sitter--it really adds up, you know). And now, I'm not sure what to do with myself. I usually get some cleaning done, and take care of laundry or diaper-washing, and if I'm feeling particularly motivated and housewifely, I might even get dinner started. Sometimes there is important school-related emailing to do as well.
But if I let myself read a book or knit or putter around online for more than five or ten minutes at a time instead of doing those eye-crossingly boring yet essential tasks, I feel a sense of something not right. I guess it's guilt, that feeling of spending my time relaxing in the middle of a perfectly good workday, knowing I could get other things accomplished. I even feel a little guilty about blogging right now, even though I got a solid practice session in this morning and the dishes are clean...but the diapers in the washing machine need another cycle and there is a mess on the computer desk that is mostly mine, and we need another batch of bread and there are probably 100 other mundane things I could think of to do that would make me feel like I'm not lazy if I actually do them.
I'm not looking for re-assurance here. Everyone who reads this could say "Susan, you deserve that break! You need it! Just relax!"; heaven knows enough people have told me that already--my mom, my husband, my friends who also have kids. It won't change anything, though. I will still feel like I'm being unproductive and that it's somehow wrong.
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