the work-life balance myth

I've got this great new outlook on life, where if there is something that I do not like, or something that bothers me, I've decided that it simply does not exist. Humidity, political attack ads, homework. They just don’t exist. It’s a great system.

The latest thing that just does not work for me therefore am moving to dismiss it entirely for the rest of my life: “work-life balance.”

Work-life balance is talked about ad nauseum on the internet. I think it’s because misery loves company. Or insecurity loves company. No one has it figured out so we look anywhere for people that do have it figured out and that is comforting, until we realize that work-life balance is so individualized that none of that helps. The 7-Year Postdoc was a really popular post ostensibly about how to have fun! while being really stressed out! But her descriptions of handling work-life balance sounded like a nightmare. On top of not having a partner to split 50-50 parenting, I'm not a stay-at-work-late kind of person. I am shit at compartmentalizing different parts of my life. So when I read this account of work-life balance, I was devastated. (That's way too strong a word. I was just kind of pissed at my lack of efficiency.)

So then I looked inward. And focused on Lena and focused on me and set up some play dates and made it through 5 seasons of Gilmore Girls in less than two months. (Actually when you think about that I have work-life balance completely under control. You don't make it through 100 episodes of Gilmore Girls without being incredibly efficient and extremely dedicated. Work ethic, who would dare say that I don't have one.) And then I figured it out.

There is no work-life balance.

It just doesn't exist. Mostly because for me, there is no work. It's just life. This is the life I chose, and I am the luckiest person in the world to be doing every day, what I love. Which is to say, living. And for me living happens to include, taking care of another human being, who I love (thank goodness because otherwise it would be harder), designing experiments, learning new techniques, reading papers, attending seminars, going to class, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, giving another human being some interesting experiences and cultural exposures, and taking care of myself. Ok so listing it all out like that seems really overwhelming but it's surprisingly not. The idea that there is no balance between all of these things is, well, liberating.

Since there's no work-life balance, there's definitely not a one-size-fits-all solution. 

Just like the 7-year postdoc lifestyle made me want to hurl, I'm sure my lifestyle is horrific to some. But it works for me. Some weekends I cook for the week and freeze meals and am very martha stewart. Some weeks I make ramen and chicken nuggets for me and Lena. Last week I forgot to remind Lena to turn in her homework and of course she forgot to turn in her homework, and it was ok. I've stopped doing dishes. L and I use paper plates and it is AMAZING, I just throw them away after we are done using them. I stopped making Lena elaborate lunches for school: she gets a turkey and cheese sandwich (with bread out of the freezer) and a bag of chips, applesauce, and a granola bar. Lena sleeps in my bed with me, because bedtime is some of the only uninterrupted time that I focus one-hundred percent on Lena, and I love it. Most of the time, I go to bed right after she falls asleep. It's early and I love it. Sometimes I wake up naturally before 5, and I'll get up and start the coffeemaker (all I have to do is flip the switch because I've filled up the machine the night before) and other times I wake up when my alarm goes off at 5:30. Early mornings are me time and making lunch time and watching an episode of Gilmore Girls time.

The balance part of work-life balance gives the impression that there is something to achieve. That I must devote some part of my day to watching the scales; to add and subtract things to reach and maintain the perfect level upon the ridiculous fulcrum that separates "work" and "life." Admitting that this balance just doesn't exist is the most wonderfully freeing thing I have done since...switching to paper plates.

I'm still figuring out how to do my best, trying to finish my biography of Grover Cleveland, etc, now instead of wasting a ridiculous amount of time on trying to maintain some absurd balance, I can focus my energy on doing my best. Being the best grad student I can be, being the best parent I can be, being the best person I can be. Because that is who I am, and that is my life. Balancing, optional.

Dispatches from living with a 5yo

L's party was an enormous success, and hopefully my face will now stop breaking out over the stress and anxiety accumulated over planning a five year old's birthday party. Seriously, after making cupcakes with five preschoolers and two toddlers, grad school interviews should be a cinch. Although I am exhausted. And cupcakes have lost all positive associations for me. I'm kidding. Sort of.

L cannot pose for a picture without giving the most ridiculous smile in the world. 

Exhibit A:

But her real one is a gem.

Exhibit B:

Also, if anyone has anything to say about the christmas wrapping paper or the fact that I did not take the ice cream cake out of the box before lighting the candles and presenting it to Lena...I don't want to hear it. 

P.S. I don't know how to go about sharing this with people, because whenever I go to say it out loud I think one doth protest too much for whatever reason, but I've just been getting these waves of contentedness throughout the days, and I can't help but thinking, I don't think I've ever been happier in my whole entire life. So I'm sharing it here, Dear Blog, with you, Dear Readers.

I also...should mention...this probably not as an aside, but instead take up a whole billboard in order to advertise this to the world. (Is it too late to buy a superbowl ad?) I would not be here, and could not do any of this without the amazing help and support of my parents. I mean, they're outside playing with L right now as I recover from introvert-hosting-a-party-anxiety-disorder (srsly, is this in the DSM-V because then maybe I could get a medical marijuana license for it in some states), and without them...I have no idea where I would be. Well, I do. Probably still doing dishes from the party. Or folding laundry. Thanks Nana and Pops. You deserve so much more thanks than I could ever hope to give. Oh but wait, I gave you a grandchild. HA! Debt repaid.