Just Gravy

[BrentNice]

@Gravy, I have just finished reading your journal and this inspired me to leave my first comment on the forum.

Thank you for having the courage and commitment to write about your life in such an open and honest way. I haven't read many journals, but this one has helped me feel a little less alone with the struggles I've faced parenting young kids, navigating a difficult marriage, getting sober, and working a job I know I need to leave.

I may explore these issues for myself in my own journal one day. Until then, I hope you keep posting from time to time, as I enjoy reading your updates.

[Biscuits and Gravy]

“Mommy, will you play with me?”
“Sure, what do you want to play?”
“Transformers.”
Their stepmom put an autobot decal on her car, so I put a decepticon one on mine. Abraxas and all that. See Demian.

When I first started dating Suo the kids were sleeping in my bed. It wasn’t a choice. I was so exhausted at the end of every day I would collapse in my bed and not be able to get up and the kids would tetris around me and I’d read them stories until we all passed out and come 2 am I’d jerk awake and guzzle water to stave off a hangover and maneuver a foot out of my rib cage and at 6 am my son would scream himself awake and then it’d be breakfast, daycare, and work and that was my life.

I broke my foot and was all alone with the kids this weekend and I asked the kids to bring the trash can in from the curb and my daughter put on her shoes but then looked out the door and proclaimed, “It’s drizzling. I’ll do it later.” And I thought of the seven months of “morning” sickness, the 32 hours of unmedicated labor, the mastitis, the all-night ER vigil, the countless meals, butt wipes, times she threw up into (not just onto) my shirt, snot I’d wiped, clothes I’d bought, money I’d spent, sleep I’d lost, and instead of punting her over the back fence (with my good foot) and disowning her I asked her if she wanted a snack because she’s 7 and she’ll probably never understand and even when it stopped raining and she had clearly forgotten her promise I still didn’t tear into her.

However life changes, “transitions are hard” is a constant. In the course of a month, I live 4 to 5 different situations: 1) Just Gravy; 2) Gravy+Suo; 3) Gravy+Suo+Gravy biokids; 4) Gravy+Gravy biokids; and (on rare occasions) 5) Gravy+Suo+Suo biokids. Following a “Just Gravy” situation, I had a burst of creative energy and spent two days writing a book. Then I got my kids back and I flatlined. Back to mom mode, no energy for anything else. I thought about the book once this weekend and I laughed out loud at myself: What were you thinking, you dumbass? as I scoured a pot.

But when it’s just me, I believe in it. I believe in me. And I’ma finish it and sell it and write others and make @Suomalainen my house husband. And these kids are going to grow up and not be as useless as herpes one day.

@BrentNice Thank you very much for your kind comment. I hope you start your own journal—it’s a validating, cathartic, and helpful exercise. I often read my older posts and marvel at where I was and how far I have come. The people on this forum are a highly unusual bunch and their comments are often kind and invaluable. They freely share their hard-earned wisdom and there are innumerable pearls to root out and digest around here. It humbles and gladdens me that in my stumblings I could help you feel less alone.

[7Wannabe5]

Do you enjoy playing Transformers? I’m just asking because core truth that I would do anything for my kids, but still I don’t recall playing Transformers on demand. It wouldn’t hurt to attempt “Sure, let’s play Mommy write a book and kiddo write a book too. What do we need to play “write a book?” Yes, paper or computer, mmm hmm, crayons for the illustrations. One other thing we need is “rooms of our own.” So, Mommy will go to her office space and you will need an office space too. Let’s set that up and then we’ll both set our timers for 30 minutes, and when the timer goes off you can show me your wonderful book.”

We’ve been experiencing a bitter cold snap in my neck of the woods, so I was reminiscing with my “ex” about how my sisters and I were sent outside by ourselves to play for hours at a time in terrible winter weather. Nothing like that happened in his childhood, because he was upper-middle class in a culture where that meant you had servants, including a Nanny for the first born son who was inclined to meet his whims In coddling manner. OTOH, my own father although also from upper middle class urban background was somebody who truly enjoyed engaging in games and rough-housing; he would be the one encouraging us to come tobogganing, kite flying or play poker, because that was his groove. My groove was more towards creating play spaces or events for my kids, but not so much directly engaging in play myself, and this afforded me a bit more time/space for myself during the years when I was mostly home with them.

Anyways, my point being please ignore my suggestion if Transformers is your groove, but you don’t have to be The Nanny with no adult “space” afforded for yourself while in the company of your kids. The more “space” you reserve as adult, the more adulthood seems like an appealing prospect.

[Biscuits and Gravy]

I enjoy playing with the kids sometimes. I probably get down on the floor with them once or twice a day for 10 to 20 minutes at a time. As an adult, they can be very long minutes, but I see how much it means to my kids (especially my son) so I play. My midwestern boomer parents obviously didn’t play with me. I was their third whoopsie child and neither of them were affectionate so I was love- and attention- starved as a kid. And so naturally I’ve rubberbanded with my own children. I have this thing where I’ll say “hey, hey, [child’s name]. Did you know?” And if it’s my son he’ll go stock-still, look straight ahead, and say in a flat voice, “you love me, I know. You say it every day.” And if it’s my daughter she’ll roll her eyes and say, “ughhhhhh you love me, I know!” but with a little smile. And then I’ll crush and tickle and snuggle them and tell them that I love them so much.

I do smell what you’re stepping in about kid/adult boundaries and I know it’s a weakness of mine. Some tricks I use now are: I sit nearby reading a book while they play; I stay busy with chores/cooking and if they ping me for attention I invite them to cook/clean with me; and I take short solo walks outside (if Suo is around and up for watching them). It’s been really helpful to watch how Suo interacts with my kids, because he’s set and kept very clear and strong boundaries and the kids interact with him on his terms. I tend to get pulled in by my kids and I wind up more tired and stressed than I need to be. There are worrisome byproducts to my indulgent and overly-affectionate parenting style: making adulthood less appealing, as you said; my kids feeling entitled to my time and attention; less time and space for myself; and I wonder if they’ve developed a belief that adults will bend around and for them. It’s a—wait for it—process.

[AxelHeyst]

I have this thing where I’ll say “hey, hey, [child’s name]. Did you know?” ....And then I’ll crush and tickle and snuggle them and tell them that I love them so much.

God dammit, Gravy, no trigger warning? Really?

[Biscuits and Gravy]

Haha, sorry, Axel, I feel you. I’m definitely the mother I wish I had. But there are positives and negatives to all parenting approaches. My childhood sense of being a wholly unwanted burden probably led me to develop some very good traits: self-sufficiency, independence, grit, wit, humor, etc. Smothering my little biscuits in love is probably doing just that—smothering them.

[7Wannabe5]

Understand, I was definitely not attempting to convey any more "should"s to a mother of young kids. If you want to bribe them with free access sugar cereal and their choice of screen time, so you can spend 3 more hours in bed with Suo on Sunday morning "working on the bills", I say absolutely go for it. If you want to hire your not-brightest-bulb-in-package 10 year old neighbor to walk them around the block 20X until they are ready for a nap, while you work on your book, I say absolutely go for it. If you want to enroll them in Evangelical Baptist Bible Camp, because the bus will come right to your door and haul them away for free on three mornings/week during summer break, while you just lounge about watching youtube and eating muffins, I say go for it. Etc.

I was attempting to make suggestions towards better boundarying your own healthy selfish, wants. I was definitely on the cuddly side with my kids too; just not inclined to bore myself with another round of Chutes and Ladders or knock-knock jokes. The sort of thing I was always doing was making a batch of play dough, setting up a slip n slide in the backyard, organizing all the clues for a treasure hunt, loading the dress-up chest with new costumes, packing up a picnic for our trip by wagon to the playground etc. etc. It's all receding into the dimming past for me now, but in terms of "doing it with them" activities, it would usually be arts and crafts, cooking, gardening/nature or always, always reading picture books with them cuddled by my side. Mine were also 2 years apart, but my daughter was younger and very mature, so they amused each other a good deal of the time. They went through a very strong Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles phase when they were 4 and 6, but all I needed to do was provide the accessories for their imaginative play. OTOH, when they were 3 and 5, they were so glommed on to me constantly, I couldn't even attempt to exercise on my old school stationary bike without witnessing them risking serious injury on the rotating wheel in their attempts to get their sticky paws back on me.

[black_son_of_gray]

However life changes, “transitions are hard” is a constant. In the course of a month, I live 4 to 5 different situations: 1) Just Gravy; 2) Gravy+Suo; 3) Gravy+Suo+Gravy biokids; 4) Gravy+Gravy biokids; and (on rare occasions) 5) Gravy+Suo+Suo biokids. Following a “Just Gravy” situation, I had a burst of creative energy and spent two days writing a book. Then I got my kids back and I flatlined. Back to mom mode, no energy for anything else. I thought about the book once this weekend and I laughed out loud at myself: What were you thinking, you dumbass? as I scoured a pot.

First thought on the different situations was that old Whitman line: "Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)" IIRC, Toni Morrison has talked about (and I'm sure many writers have said something similar) getting up early before the kids woke up in order to write, because when they got up she was no longer a writer but "Mom". Some people can squeeze writing in during the quiet moments throughout the day, but others need a solitary block of time. Whatever works...

But when it’s just me, I believe in it. I believe in me. And I’ma finish it and sell it and write others and make @Suomalainen my house husband.

Yes, yes. Very much this.

[suomalainen]

Re: househusband, I concur. But really, she wrote like 8 - 10 hours a day nonstop. It was quite impressive.

[Biscuits and Gravy]

"You know I might have been born just plain white trash, but Fancy was my name." - Reba McEntire

This morning I realized--nearly 37 years into my life and 21 pages into this journal--that I value hard work and that this is my most deeply held value. I grew up in south Texas, but I was raised by Midwesterners, and even a cursory Google search of "Midwestern values" results in hit after hit of "hard work." I think my blindness to this value can be partially attributed to the fact that, like most good Midwesterners, my family didn't talk, we just did our apportioned work, and no one ever overtly verbalized values, instead we obliquely chanted "devil take the hindmost," "you must earn your keep," "you reap what you sow," and "nothing worth having comes easy." My blindness also came from growing up*--the requisite shitting of the nest, the exploration of and admiration for different cultures, rebellion, denial, dismissal--all to come full circle back to who I was and am.

I mistakenly believed that my work/career was an insignificant part of my identity, and that juggling work+kids was a wholly unfair burden foisted upon me by a fucked up society, but the truth is these were manifestations of my bedrock value, and I had elegantly but unwittingly designed my life to demand of myself what I want most, what brings me the greatest peace and satisfaction.

DH, in his infinite kindness and wisdom, sent me this conversation about productivity because he sees me struggle to do nothing, to simply exist. It's true that my "must work hard" drive can make me appear to be a productivity freak, but the root of the matter is that I simply must work hard. The endpoint is irrelevant--the goal is hard work.

How can I find peace and enjoy "doing nothing" if my north star is hard work?, she asks, joyously. The knowledge it is my value gives me peace. Life patterns that have confused and consternated me are now clarified. I can embrace and laugh at my lifelong struggles with sitting, existing, and worthiness. I can make time every day to work hard to scratch that deep, demanding itch, and I can find peace in knowing that it really doesn't matter if I achieve anything. All I really need to do is work hard, in some capacity, and I'll feel worthy and fulfilled.

*Dear god, how long it takes to grow up.

[jacob]

This morning I realized--nearly 37 years into my life and 21 pages into this journal--that I value hard work and that this is my most deeply held value. I grew up in south Texas, but I was raised by Midwesterners, and even a cursory Google search of "Midwestern values" results in hit after hit of "hard work." I think my blindness to this value can be partially attributed to the fact that, like most good Midwesterners, my family didn't talk, we just did our apportioned work, and no one every overtly verbalized values, instead we obliquely chanted "devil take the hindmost," "you must earn your keep," "you reap what you sow," and "nothing worth having comes easy." My blindness also came from growing up*--the requisite shitting of the nest, the exploration of and admiration for different cultures, rebellion, denial, dismissal--all to come full circle back to who I was and am.

It's my understanding that the US Midwest was primarily settled by northern Europeans. As a result, you get the protestant work ethic in which life's meaning is found in work, personal identity is determined the job one holds (more precisely the fact that one holds a job), and the moral duty is to do your job and do it well. SD:Blue for the nerds.

I've been talking to my parents for years about them retiring, but I'm pretty confident it'll never happen. They don't see retirement as the reward at the end of a finish line (SD:Orange for the nerds) and they definitely do not see FIRE as having made it to the starting line for the rest of your life as I do. If they're lucky, they'll likely die [happy] on the job. It's interesting that they raised us, their children, within the prevailing societal values of being happy (SD:Green) since that is so far away from what they did and do themselves. Neither my sister nor myself have ever pursued anything that could be described as a career, nor have we been overly attached to the idea of working. Perhaps there's some soft rebellion involved too---doing the opposite of one's parents.

It takes an individualistic/pluralistic break to start questioning one's own values, duties, and identity. (It's much easier to question others than look inward.) Most people never get to that point. My grandfather had the same values. He worked hard but eventually lost his eyesight and spent the last 20 years of his life feeling "useless" because he could no longer work. Not as lucky.

[thef0x]

Enjoying your posts. That stream of consciousness paragraph response to your kiddo saying "I think I'll do it later" made me laugh out loud. That beautiful, hilarious duality of parenting. I'm so glad you lead with love in your family. That eye roll will evolve again into a loving hug and then eventually a taking-care-of-you parenting energy from your own kids as life wraps up. Excited for you that you are instilling that new rhythm to be inherited by yours.

Questions re that work / career insight, if I may:

What does "work" mean to you? Do you think you can you find it outside of the "for money points" or "career status" paradigm of work? What would that look like?

--

My own take:

ERE never struck me as the change from work to no work, instead it always felt like a transition from work you don't like to work* you do ~like**/choose. This distinction is a concise way to delineate FIRE from ERE in regards to motivation (my take, Jacob can ofc weigh in).

I deeply agree with you that work ethic isn't something that changes the day you retire, and frankly, looking around at most folks on this forum, it appears work output only increases post FIRE because of stoke, borrowing @Axel's language.

* I think of someone like mountainFrugal who is deeply investigating and choosing the work he does, paid or otherwise.

** IME, even my favorite projects involve grueling, uncomfortable, frustrating parts because that's life / being a human.

[7Wannabe5]

Hmmm...as someone who did grow up in the Midwest and still resides there, I somewhat question if Protestant work ethic is largest or only factor. Or would note that there are different sects within Protestantism and these sects experienced different historical journeys as they spread across the U.S. The Protestant group in the Midwest with which work ethic would likely be associated would be the non-English speaking poor rural later arriving immigrants who journeyed from Northern European realms such as Sweden and Norway to the far Northern harsh realms of homesteading era U.S. I mean, f*ck yes this group valued hard work breaking their backs breaking sod and surviving through the frigid cold winters on treeless plains or coniferous forests.

Some other Protestant groups in the Midwest, such as that represented in my paternal line, were early arrivals from England to the U.S. East coast, settling in realms such Connecticut or New York, so were already quite “citified” before some of them settled further west. This group definitely brought with them some aspects of Yankee thrift, but also quite strongly the Protestant value of literacy and education for all. This group is responsible for the fact that land grants for schools and public libraries were established along with the initial layout of homesteads. IOW, this Protestant group was already towards “work smart” rather than “work hard” before settling in the Midwest. For example, my England to New York in 17th century heritage great-great-grandfather was an early settler in Michigan in the 19th century(and also a second cousin of famous Little House in Big Woods pioneer ) , and he was at least nominally a farmer, but his son was a newspaper reporter who became the Treasurer of Detroit and divorced my great-grandmother to marry his secretary. So, three generations later there was very, very, little in my Midwestern Settler Protestant heritage informing me that I better haul ass to dig the potatoes. To the scant extent I did get a bit of this vibe, it would have been from my later immigrated Polish Catholic line, but although my Polish grandmother did work on a factory line intermittently, and grew a small vegetable patch, she also liked to have a good time and bet on the ponies.

IOW, this work ethic is not Protestant Midwestern as much as it is simply correlated with rural or small town living. My kids complain that even though hippieMom me(and certainly their hipster father)obviously raised them Level Green “be happy” (or “be happy and be able to play a musical instrument and/or speak intelligently about books”), the fact that we lived in a small rural town while they were growing up permanently embedded them with a streak of this work ethic.

[Biscuits and Gravy]

It's my understanding that the US Midwest was primarily settled by northern Europeans. As a result, you get the protestant work ethic in which life's meaning is found in work, personal identity is determined the job one holds (more precisely the fact that one holds a job), and the moral duty is to do your job and do it well. SD:Blue for the nerds.

Yes, I'm a European mix, Scotch-Irish on my dad's side. In addition to the protestant work ethic*, I believe there is a genetic restlessness in us. We were border warriors who became immigrants who became frontiersmen who became farmers, all in rather short order. Due to the virulent strain of individualism which infects all Texans, I resisted the truth that I am my genetics, and maybe in that resistance lost some decades of building off of this "hard work is my value" insight, which is apparently as clear as the nose on my face to any outsider.

*edit to address 7w5: Yes, my people are from a small town (although no longer so small!) and my father worked on a farm from ages 13-18, then he enlisted and got us all out of Dodge.

It's interesting that they raised us, their children, within the prevailing societal values of being happy since that is so far away from what they did and do themselves.

You do seem like an ecstatically happy dude, I can see that. I wonder if it was a conscious choice on your parents' part, or if as parents we really do just rubberband away from the things that we perceived we didn't like in our own parents/upbringing. It must be a miracle when any one child gets the parent(s) that they need and want in order to simply not be fucked up when they leave the home.

My grandfather had the same values. He worked hard but eventually lost his eyesight and spent the last 20 years of his life feeling "useless" because he could no longer work. Not as lucky.

There is certainly a dark side to this value. I have a broken foot right now so I can't work as hard as I like, and I spent last week in a deep depression because I felt useless. I suspect I will have to rely heavily on reframing in order to save myself from your grandfather's fate (e.g., instead of sitting here being useless, I'm doing the "hard work" of healing a broken bone, which just so happens to involve a lot of inactivity). There's also this bizarre idea going around that "you are enough" or "you don't need to justify your existence" or, as DH states it, "you can take up space" and I think digesting and adopting this idea will be the positive counterbalance that optimizing my hard work value (because I accept it cannot be changed or supplanted) requires.

[Jean]

What relieved me of my duty to work was the realisation that the work i did was mostly useless, if not a nuisance.
When the work is actually usefull, seeing how much people are fighting for the privilege of doing the work is also relieving.
I even wonder if there is a discount on usefull work,because people will accept a lower wage do to it than to do something useless.

[Biscuits and Gravy]

Enjoying your posts. That stream of consciousness paragraph response to your kiddo saying "I think I'll do it later" made me laugh out loud. That beautiful, hilarious duality of parenting. I'm so glad you lead with love in your family. That eye roll will evolve again into a loving hug and then eventually a taking-care-of-you parenting energy from your own kids as life wraps up. Excited for you that you are instilling that new rhythm to be inherited by yours.

Aw, thanks, thef0x. I've never framed it as "leading with love," but that does sound a lot better than my "man I spoil the living out of my children" narrative. I think I'll take your comment as an opportunity to say something to new parents or parents-to-be: I made a conscious choice to be much softer on my kids than my parents were on me, and I've chosen to love, cuddle, play with, empathize, "validate," and do basically all of the things that my father would have called hippie bullshit, and it is paying dividends. I can see it. My kids are kind, thoughtful, emotionally intelligent, and they don't shy away from "taking up space" (this is very important to me, as an unwanted child who internalized minimization). I can see in my kids my softness, compassion, and courtesy reflected back at me, and I think I'm doing good there, and if you were raised with the "spare the rod, spoil the child" philosophy like I was, you can drop it, you don't have to take that route. You can choose kindness, and your kids will choose kindness. /soapbox

What does "work" mean to you? Do you think you can you find it outside of the "for money points" or "career status" paradigm of work? What would that look like?

Answering this question is work, because it challenges me. Work is anything that takes a goodly amount of effort, that tires me, that pushes me physically or mentally. Yes, I can find work outside of a traditional career. I have my housework, my parenting work, my marriage work, my keep-myself-healthy work, and now my writeabook work. I am fortunate that my definition for work is so broad because with a little bit of reframing I can probably categorize everything as "work." I've struggled since quitting because I went from allatime traditional workworkwork, to, oh, uhhhhh, so am I allowed to just sit here?

To your "transition to work you do like" point, the point is I like all work, and the harder the better. I just didn't know that about myself, and I didn't realize my definition of work could be so broad as to encompass thinking about my response to your question or just doing the damn asexually reproducing dishes. I mean, okay, doing the dishes is my least favorite work, but maybe (and don't hold me to this, @suomalainen) I can reframe even doing the dishes as a way to scratch my hard work itch.

[black_son_of_gray]

@ Gravy

I'm seeing in your posts a healthy mix of "work hard" and "hard work", and I'd like to split hairs for just a second...

"work hard" takes the verb "work" and then escalates it with an adverb: work how? hard.
"hard work" takes the noun "work" and then describes it with an adjective: what kind of work? hard.

So I'm left wondering what it is exactly about "work" that is embedded within you--is it that you need "to work" at something with vigor? is it that you need a difficult/important task (i.e. "work") to orient toward? is it both (you need to work hard at hard work)?

Maybe this is another way of saying, is this drive coming from a goal or a method ?

EDIT: Damn it, I just saw the last part of the last post....

[Biscuits and Gravy]

1) I quit alcohol[1], quit Lexapro[2], lost 8 pounds, and read more and different types of books than I would have. I'm currently reading an unabridged version of Les Misérables, and working-Gravy would definitely not have considered it "worth" the time "sink."
2) I now appreciate the importance of rest and recovery.
3) I have a clearer picture of the true limits of my energy and time.
4) I am working on establishing a morning routine[3] which lights up many bubbles on my WoG. I am a morning person, generally up at 6 a.m., which means in the morning I can tolerate being strict with myself, pushing myself, and hard work. The evenings, I've come to conclude[4], are not for working toward my goals, but are for not working against my goals. I do wonder if I can hack this aspect of myself by taking a midday nap. While the required research is daunting and will surely be exhausting, I think I am up for subjecting myself to some rigorous testing.
5) I'm teasing out and challenging my deeply embedded cognitive distortions. This is very hard work. I've also had a lot of tearful breakthroughs about family of origin issues which I will spare you.
6) I've only talked to my boss once since I quit, and I have spoken with zero ex-coworkers (with the exception of my bestie). While I was working, I saw my boss more than I saw my own children, and I considered him a father-figure. Connections through employment are largely ephemeral. I admit I miss my boss, but I'm glad we haven't interacted, because I would have felt an even stronger pull to go back to work. I bet he is cognizant of that, and I appreciate him even more for the injected space.

Conclusion thus far into the quit-job experiment: I have no regrets, and am very glad I took this chance. It has been much more challenging (and not at all in a financial way) than I envisioned. My identity has been shaken up, I've relinquished crutches, and I've spent a lot of uncomfortable time sitting with myself. I've gone from "independent educated working mom earning six figures[5]" to... well, I'm not sure how to describe what I am now. Or if a description even matters. Something that does matter, I think, is giving back to the community that got me here, so I hope y'all find these albeit self-absorbed reflections helpful.
__________________

[1]I didn't touch alcohol for four months. Last week I bought a six pack of my favorite beer and found that I didn't enjoy it or its effects at all.
[2]It's not that my anxiety, OCD, or penchant for depressive episodes disappeared once I quit my job. It's simply that I have the time and space to handle these issues on my terms and timetable (with kid demands as the exception). The removal of the pressure to mask at work has been a great relief, too. Lexapro would certainly still alleviate my symptoms, and I do find them distressing and disruptive, especially the OCD, but there is now an inner peace, acceptance, and confidence that I can manage my symptoms with my own curated arsenal of exercise, proper nutrition, adequate sleep, positive thinking, reframing, support from loved ones, hydration, sufficient vitamin D, etc. etc. It sucks to have mental health issues and to be occasionally derailed by my own brain, but with patience, positivity, and persistence I always come out the other side of an episode just fine. A bit bewildered and envious of people with properly-wired brains, but just fine.
[3]Ever since I quit, eight entire months ago, I have been teasing out my "optimal" morning routine. This is how long things take to develop. Lifestyle design is indeed an incremental process.
[4]Maybe like most people I have to draw the same conclusion 10-1,000x times before I actually adopt it. I consider myself very smart, but not extremely smart; I'm just smart enough to know that I'm not smart enough. I am also handicapped by three mental health conditions, which can and do derail me for hours if not weeks at a time. That's okay. I know what I'm working with here, and so I can be patient.
[5] I'm not so removed from this identity that I didn't feel pride at typing out "earning six figures."

[7Wannabe5]

Yeah, morning routine is key. Although, maybe I would choose a different word than "routine." The essential piece when you are "self-authoring" is to check in with yourself about what page you are on. It's also good practice to "reflect" at the end of the day, but I rarely find myself in an evening energy space which aligns with that practice. In a way, self-directed time in the morning is much like a room of one's own, and even better spent if you have one of those too. At this juncture, given lingering symptoms of Crohn's disease, my core routine, and my self-authoring druthers, I choose to set my alarm clock (when necessary) to allow myself at least 3 hours in the morning before I must go somewhere or significantly interact with anybody.

It has been my experience that an afternoon nap will grant me a bit of a re-set, but I usually have to thoroughly exhaust myself in order to make afternoon nap a reality. For example, Morning for Me Time (3 hours)-> Tramp through the Woods->(2 hours)-> Read/Cook-> (3 hours)-> Afternoon Sex-> (30 minutes) ->Drift into Short Light Nap (1 hour)-> Good to go out to social event in the evening. OR Me Time (3 hours)-> Teach kindergarten (7 hours)-> Collapse in Bed for Short Hard Nap (1 hour)-> Good to attend evening dance class. If I can't take a nap, I at least try to only do brain-dead things in my late afternoon down period, because continuing to drink coffee to compensate will mess up my sleep at night. Since I was pretty adamant at maintaining my early morning me time even when I was actively dating, the hilarious thing that would often happen is that I would start grogging out on my dates around 9 PM, and the fact that I often don't own a car meant that I would not infrequently find myself drifting off in some guy's passenger seat. I generally don't drink, but I might have one drink on a date and that would definitely compound the problem. I am infamous with everybody who knows me, especially my kids, for falling asleep halfway through movies. So, that's the downside of a significant Morning for Me routine or allowance. ***Don't share this bit with Suo, but if you are good at having sex while you are still sleeping, that will also likely be helpful. It has been my experience that this is at approximately the same level of multi-tasking as simultaneously reading a book while making a sandwich for one of your kids.***

[Biscuits and Gravy]

Although, maybe I would choose a different word than "routine."

Practice? Ritual? Maybe I can channel my inner basic white girl and call it a journey. Yeah. My Morning Journey.

If I can't take a nap, I at least try to only do brain-dead things in my late afternoon down period, because continuing to drink coffee to compensate will mess up my sleep at night.

Same. My ritual 2 pm cup of coffee is now discontinued, probably for life. Instead if I'm dragging I'll have something sugary, and I'll purposefully tell my kids, "I'm having some sugar so I can get an energy boost." And then I'll follow it up with the "everything in moderation, even moderation!" that they won't understand until they're in their 20s.

Don't share this bit with Suo, but if you are good at having sex while you are still sleeping, that will also likely be helpful.

Haha, what? I don't follow that at all. I'd have a better chance of sleeping while being mauled by a bear. Plus, there are only a few things in my life that make me think and feel "wow, I am so glad I am alive to experience this; this must be the reason I am alive!" and sex is one of those things. Don't really wanna sleep through it.