Grad school has warped how I view productivity. Add on the mom-guilt of never feeling like I’m doing enough, am good enough, and doubting everything about myself as a human being, you’ve got one neurotic and anxiety driven woman. Particularly with how many things I was juggling at one time as a graduate student, it’s hard to feel like I’m making any kind of progress as mom, as wife, as an author when leaving the house and speaking to someone other than my infant and dog is a special circumstance. Thankfully, my husband brings me back to reality:
Me: One semester I was teaching an undergraduate course, researching ten hours a week for two different professors, taking full-time and a half course load, training for a mini-marathon, having a kick-ass social life, and planning a wedding. Now? I struggle to get the house cleaned and a page written in the novel.
Husband: That semester you nearly had a nervous breakdown, remember?
Me: I guess.
Husband: Let’s not revisit that.
Some days I don’t feel productive. I feel like I’m struggling most of the time. I have this preconceived notion of successful days and a stark image of a list with hundreds of unchecked items that I can’t seem to unsee. I feel behind.
Then, I remind myself that I have only been writing full-time (well, it feels part time since I’m a full-time mom) for about a month now. ONLY A MONTH. But, I have been writing. I’m blogging and planning posts. I’m Instagramming for my blog. I’m working on the novel and I’ve made some great headway in the last few weeks. Plus, I’m spending a lot of time thinking about my novel and what I want to do when I can steal a precious 30 minutes while baby naps to focus. I’m writing articles/blog posts. One, of which, got picked up to be posted at the end of the month!
New perspective: I’m writing = I’m successful.