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Entropy
My new view shows me that some person or people in a neighboring apartment have yet to dismantle their Christmas tree or even take down the twinkling lights. (Why yes, I do get to see these lights sparkling before dawn on a regular basis. No, I'm not talking to my pediatrician about my bad sleep training skills.)
My husband, thinking practically, believes that no one actually resides in the apartment, that the unit's owners are actually in Aruba or Belize (he always suggests tropical residences for these strangers). My thoughts are more sympathetic. Maybe they don't have time to take the thing down and can't face such a task and are instead hoping that it will magically take care of itself. I have had these moments lately. I was willing to live with a telephone that fought relentlessly with the internet service, because I just couldn't face the scheduling.
And somehow this sense of being overwhelmed reminds me of a conversation I had recently with a relatively new mother who is trying to juggle some part time work. She was going to be freelancing for a company that's entire reason for being is connected to all things "mother" and one would have thought they would be sensitive to questions of schedule and time. Sadly this was quite the contrary and she asked if I thought she wasn't ready to start in with working in this way and I said I thought that this wasn't her problem. It is so typical yet so odd that even people whose work is all about being sympathetic to the difficulties of parenting find it hard to accommodate a new parent's schedule (requiring one to find childcare on the fly, for instance). I fear in both cases, the company and the individual have a hard time facing the fundamental issue that many new mothers need a little extra time when it comes to scheduling work, because it means a little extra problem solving.
But maybe this is misplaced optimism on my part. I hope not, but I am the person, remember, who just wants to plow through. I plow through work, and ignore the things I can't quickly figure out. And I would happily live with a Christmas tree (though we have never actually gotten one and given the way things go around here with the savage children and terrier, it might not be wise for a few years) well into February, because trying to assign at time to dismantle it and decide what to do with it would be overwhelming to me.
And that is the latest side-effect of becoming a mother. I can complain about entropy now that my hair has started to grow back.
posted by Elise at 9:54 AM
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