Chill with Not Being Chill
Clothes and toys on the floor mostly don’t bother me. I’m fine with a garden covered in weeds as long as the veggies are somewhere in there too. Visual chaos doesn’t bug me—I’d rather have time to go for a run or play with the kids than have a spotless house or a garden you can actually tell is a garden. So in some respects, I guess I can be somewhat relaxed (much to the detriment of an organized household). However, when it comes to other things like social time, personal and professional projects, and tantrum navigation as a parent, I am coming to grips with the fact that I am not chill at all.
Maybe if we brought an iced coffee up here I would consider drinking it?
For example, I’ve always harbored fantasies about being that person who can meet a friend for coffee and sip an iced latte at 1pm, but I’m officially, publicly admitting that’s just not me. The reasons why are numerous and silly, such as that I don’t handle caffeine well after about ten am, just thinking about taking the time to go and sit and chat somewhere drives me nuts, and also I am reluctant to pay for coffee when I can make excellent coffee at home. Wow I sound fun—I’m not sure what Type A is but I think I might have it.
My kind of happy hour with friends.
Admitting these “quirks” about myself has been both freeing and stultifying. On one hand, it’s great to stop banging my head against the wall trying to repeatedly pretend I should be into doing stuff like that. What a realization! I don’t have to feel bad that I don’t want to go sip white wine with people at 4pm!
On the other hand, it’s embarrassing to admit that I just am not cut out for some things. That doesn’t mean I plan to give up entirely on certain things, it just means I have to be honest with myself about them.
Which brings me to the second way in which I’m not chill, which is my tendency to be overly ambitious about projects (cooking, gardening, skiing, scheduling, etc.) and trying to squeeze in every last little thing out of each day. The Swedish have a word, “tidsoptimist,” that means “time optimist,” and our Swedish friend once used it to describe my brother and I. It totally fits. We aren’t late on purpose, we just honestly thought we could do it ALL (oh and then one last thing!) before we were supposed to leave ten minutes ago. We may have overcommitted.
Take right now, for example—late August. It’s the time when all of our tomatoes are ripe at once, plus the chili peppers, most of the peaches, oh and the basil needs to be made into pesto soon too. Did I mention I planted over 80 tomato plants and close to 70 pepper plants? Some might say “psycho,” but I prefer overboard, like I said.
The best kind of too much. Photo: Lynn Delzer
Currently I have some chili garlic sauce simmering on the stove, tomatoes in the crockpot and more in the oven. In the past week we’ve given away lots of peaches to friends and family (oh so maybe now you do want to be my friend after all even if I won’t meet you for a glass of wine?), I’ve made peach jam, roasted peaches, a peach pie, and we have several gallons already sliced and in the freezer (plus the ones still leftover from last year, sitting alongside the frozen tomato sauce…from last year and some from this year too).
It sounds ridiculous when I type it out like that but it gives me immense comfort—and also I think I thrive on it a little bit. I love to be maxed out, staying up late to slice peaches or can sauce, when it feels like I’m doing something productive that will be providing for our family this winter and next spring. However, there is a point each year when the ripening fruit begins to feel like a burden and I’m overwhelmed. At this point, it’s helpful to remind myself that grocery stores exist. I will be able to buy cans of tomatoes, but I won’t be able to buy back my sanity or patience or time with the kids. In other words, I’ve had to find ways to be chill with my tendency to not stock my freezer and fridge like a sane person. This means I involve the kids as much as possible even if it means it takes a little longer and someone might accidentally bite into a jalapeno. More crucially, I’ve developed shortcuts (no peeling, no seeding, slicing only if necessary), the simplest possible methods and recipes (the crockpot is my best friend), and that it’s okay to do little bits at once, only dealing with what immediately needs to be picked or is about to rot. It might take five days to make one pot of jam. The freezer will be just fine this year; I can can stuff again next year when my kids are bigger and my husband isn’t working 7 days a week on a construction project. Hahaha, sure I’ll get back to canning next year—pretty sure that’s what I said last year, too. But that’s beside the point.
This is one corner of our kitchen on a mellow August day.
The point here is that these are just fruit and vegetables, and this is all part of learning who I am and how to streamline. The part that I find REALLY challenging and nearly impossible to be chill about is when I lose patience as a mom. For example, let’s take the simple task of getting out of the house every morning on time. If it’s a casual weekend day with vague plans and I’m in a relaxed mood (maybe it was one of those rare miracle mornings where I got up and exercised early that morning, in which case I’m feeling extra content and relaxed and benevolent), it seems that the kids dress themselves, the bag is easy to pack, and people walk out the door with their shoes on and load themselves up in their carseats. It’s a breeze! This mom stuff is easy! Let’s have 5 more kids!
But the other days—the majority of days—when there’s somewhere we are supposed to be by a certain time that really fray my last nerve. I’ll be trying to hustle everyone out the door when instantly they forget they can dress themselves, INSIST on bringing 8 stuffed animals, five books and mom’s good kitchen scissors (WHAT WERE THESE DOING ON THE FLOOR ANYWAYS?!) and throw raging tantrums when I say no. Suddenly they become interested in doing puzzles, decorating thank you cards, or performing other constructive tasks that they know I am loathe to tear them away from. There is no rationalizing with irrational minds, and so I’m stuck racing around trying to put one person’s shoes on while the other one is chucking hers across the room and so on and so on in a ridiculous circle of tardiness and frustration that would be hilarious to anyone watching except for the tears. “WAIT NO YOU MAY NOT POOP IN THAT! Give me the bowl please. Poop goes in the potty.” I know it is minor stuff. I know it’s ridiculous! And yet still in the moment I experience a total loss of patience and perspective.
This is when I secretly wish a kind fairy would drop down and gently remind me all the things that I’m constantly encouraging the kids to do, like take deep breaths when they are raging, or to “go with the flow” when they are inordinately upset about seemingly little things. Except that when anyone tells me to calm down in those moments it only makes me madder, which is pretty much what happens to the kids, too, so I guess I’ve answered a few questions right there.
When I just hear my kids upsettiness in the moment and repeat it back to them (“you really want to run around the house with mom’s scissors and you’re mad that she took them away.”). their anger diffuses much more quickly, and they are calm and feel seen and heard. If I actually count, it’s usually a maximum of about 90 seconds of crying or screaming at most to endure, which I just have to remind myself is quite bearable—just see it for what it is, which is a little crying. (Bonus points if I actually look into their eyes and “listen” to the crying and hear it, like Magda would do.) What’s more, it gives me a task to focus on: all I have to do is simply repeat back what they are telling me. This diffuses my own emotions, and gives me a second to realize and perhaps say out loud what’s going on for me too. If I can manage to do that without blame, (I’m frustrated because I want to be on time for the school packet pickup so we can have a moment to chat with your teacher! Also Mom is a time optimist and I’m sorry about that!) it takes everything down a notch further and then we can maybe get somewhere. We are still probably going to be late but surprisingly we are less late and the car ride (and probably the whole rest of the morning) will be MUCH more chill.
Really the whole point is to be doing this. Photo: Lynn Delzer
It also might help me avoid the vicious cycle of shame I feel when I lose patience and then am mad at myself for losing patience, and feel even worse. I don’t aim to be a perfect parent—I can be chill and realistic about that—but it generally feels pretty crappy when I lose it, so I’d like to try to cut down on that if possible.
In these three areas of life—socially, domestically, and parentally—where I am least likely to be chill, there’s a pattern that I’ve recognized that has helped me be more chill with not being chill. If I dive straight into the heart of why I’m doing the thing in the first place—ie, connecting with friends in a meaningful way while sharing fun activities, enjoying the satisfaction of growing things and making delicious homemade stuff from the bounty to enjoy all year plus saving money, and trying to learn and grow from the challenging parenting times while using them as teaching and growing moments for the kids—it really helps me understand why I go so quickly into panic mode. I value health and sleep so I choose not to have coffee after about 10am, and I value frugality so I want to limit unnecessary spending. I always want to be outdoors having adventures and challenging myself, so it’s a natural way to connect with others. With my kids, I value being on time to our engagements but I also don’t want my kids to necessarily obey me at all costs, so I’ve set them up for failure in some regards because they’ve discovered the loophole there and (as little kids do) are experts at taking advantage. Therefore, I’ve learned that the more deliberate and specific I can be with my expectations and directions, the better for everyone. Rather than shouting “It’s time to go! I want everyone to get ready RIGHT NOW!” I could say, “I want to leave the house in five minutes. What three things do you need to do before that happens? Correct: pee, grab your hat, and put your shoes on. You have five minutes to do that. I’m going to pack a bag and go pee myself, and then I will be back and I expect to see you working on your shoes.”
As with most things, the directions are more for me than for anyone else. It generally comes back to learning who I am and staying within the framework—and then knowing when it’s time to bust out. In other words, one coffee a day, try to get outside every day, set clear goals and expectations (for myself and the kids), pee before we leave the house, and streamline streamline streamline. Hey, do you want to go out for a glass of wine later?
Occasionally we all win!
