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For When You Don’t “Have It Down”

This past weekend, a sweet friend commented admiringly on the way I “have it down,” as she put it, meaning the way I apparently have time management figured out. She was talking specifically about how I find (make) time to write in the midst of everything else that’s on my plate. I wanted to shake my head and deny her words, tell her I am far from having it all figured out, far from being able to do all the things I want to do or feel I ought to do, and that writing time means other things suffer. But I wanted the conversation to be about her and her needs, not about me, so I let the comment pass by. It’s been niggling at me ever since, pushing at the edge of my mind at the not-overflowing moments, when I’m standing in the shower or settling down against my pillows at night.

Because I don’t. Have it down. No way, no how, sister. Most days, I feel like the only thing I have down is how to put my hair in a half ponytail and call it good. See these yoga pants? I want to say. These are my work-from-home uniform. See this t-shirt? It gets washed 2 to 3 times a week because I wear it that much.

When I was in Michigan two weeks ago, I went to my hair stylist (yes, my hair stylist is 600 miles away from where I live – but that’s a discussion for another time) and had her color my hair, and then when I got home I ordered some fab new specs from Coastal, and then I was all like, Whyyyyy did you do that? You hardly leave the house. You don’t do your hair, for Pete’s sake. You wear makeup maybe once a week, so why the new specs? Your fashionable side hasn’t shown itself consistently in almost two years. In fact, she’s hiding somewhere in the back of your closet, behind your size 10 jeans.

Every once in a while I think it would be nice to join the “What I Wore” blog party, to try to make myself get dressed in real clothes, style my hair, and put on makeup every day. But.

I know better. I wouldn’t make it two days.
And friends, the reason is that I don’t have it down.
What is “it,” you ask? Well, let me tell you. “It” is life with a toddler, a full-time job that does not involve working for myself (meaning I have an 8 to 5 corporate work schedule), a household to run, this blog to update, a novel to finish, and exercise to cram in. Let’s be real, here. Daily self-care beyond a shower and brushing one’s teeth does not usually make the priority list.

But yes, I do find (make) time to write – at the expense of other things.

I get up at 6 a.m. on a good day (a good day is when the nighttime wakeups of my almost-two-year-old have been minimal) and blog until 8. The sacrifices? Sleep. Early morning exercise. Morning shower and hair and makeup.

On Friday afternoons, I sign out of work early and go to a local coffee shop and work on my novel. The sacrifices? My precious five days of personal time for the year, which I’ve split into 10 half days in order to keep writing. (I only have two afternoons left – sob!) I do this because with E’s graduate school thesis in the works, there’s no free time for me on the weekends. Later, after the thesis is done and delivered to The University that Runs Our Lives, I’ll move my weekly writing time to Saturday afternoons, which means I’ll sacrifice other things, like time with L and household stuff that never stops hanging over my head.

The bottom line? I’ve figured out that I. Just. Can’t. Do. It. All.

So like all of us, I make choices. I choose writing over other things, because I love it that much. I want it that much. More than freshly styled hair and a fashionable outfit on a daily basis, anyway. More than a perfectly clean house or caught-up laundry.

Exercise is another story. I really try hard with that one, usually eating lunch at my desk in exchange for a workout.

I’ll give you the honest picture. Full disclosure, here. I get up between 6 and 7, make coffee, blog, start work at 8 (yes, in my PJ’s sometimes). Sometime between 11 and the end of the day, I change into workout clothes, put in my contact lenses, and go to the gym. I come home, finish working, make dinner, put L to bed, and finally take a shower. Then I go to bed and get up and do it all over again. End of story.

My hair spends a lot of time under a baseball cap, folks. Purple. Northwestern University. Sweat-stained.

Clearly, there is no room for fashion in this routine. But please don’t misunderstand me. I miss fun clothes. I miss doing my hair, wearing makeup, feeling put together. I am even starting to be sick of yoga pants (a little).

I get dressed in real clothes for church, and for the occasional date night. And sometimes even on a Saturday, just to feel put together for a change. But Monday through Friday, I am Ms. Yoga Pants and Half Ponytail.

Maybe someday it will be different. For now, it is what it is. And you know what? I’m okay with it. It’s just a season, like any other. There will be fashion again, and good hair to go with it. But even in this, I’m not kidding myself. I will probably never “have it down.” Not really. Not fully.

The great thing is that Jesus doesn’t ask us to have it down. He asks us to let him stand in the gaps. To let him love us where we’re at. To let him teach us how to give grace to ourselves. In fact, he asks us not to beat ourselves up when we don’t have it down. So if you’ve been doing that – beating yourself up for not being able to do it all, be it all – I invite you to give it a rest. Right here, right now. Lay it down, sister.

Those yoga pants? They’re fine, girl. That ponytail? Looks good to me. That dust bunny in the corner? Eh, you’ll get it later. If the things that really matter – like your relationships and your passions and your health – are being cared for, the rest is trivia. Negotiable. Grace-covered.

Can I get an amen?

Blessings,

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