“I can do far less than I originally believed. And I’m reveling in the smallness of my capacity. This is it. This is who I am. This is all I have to give you. It’s not a fire hose, unending gallons of water, knocking you over with force. It’s a stream: tiny, clear, cool. That’s what I have to give, and that small stream is mine to nurture, to tend, to offer first to the people I love most, my first honor and responsibility.” -
I’ve always considered myself high capacity.
I’m the type that would write college essays late into the night after working a double shift, with just a few hours of sleep and a Nos to keep me going.
I competed with myself to reach “inbox zero” every morning at my full time job- often responding to emails the second they came through, even if I was doing it at home on my phone.
I didn’t imagine that motherhood would change this part of me, but like so many other pieces of my personality and soul and body, my capacity and limits are forever changed since bringing home our first baby that October day.
I work full-time and run a side business. I have my days manipulated to the max with childcare and independent play plans to complete the necessary day-to-day stuff.
And as much as I fight against it now, I actually don’t have more to give than that.
My days leave very limited hours (read: minutes) to achieve and complete any additional tasks uninterrupted.
I squeeze my hobbies and self-care and extra work and texts back and rest and home cleaning and showers into a nap time that might be 30 mins, 3 hours, or skipped entirely. Only one toddler naps now, though, so I do often have to factor in a buddy “resting” (read: sitting on me) and eager to soak up these minutes for one-on-one time herself.
I have a few hours each evening after wrangling two toddlers into their beds and toward sleep, after connecting with my husband, before the melatonin kicks in. I crash for a few hours that don’t seem to be enough anymore, regardless of the energy drinks that I consume in the morning.
That’s all I have. I’m not as high of capacity anymore. I can’t complete every task I’d like to or used to.
Those precious few minutes, split between each part of me and each person I love.
And if I were to give you more, I would be taking it from them.
I suppose I could have been responding to emails while pushing her on the swings this sunny day, but I’m tired of stealing from them.
I’m tired of letting other things, people, and unnecessary drama suck my energy from the limited time I have with these littles.
And so, like
says in this quote, I’m done expecting myself to be a firehose when I’m really a stream.I’m more intentional with each drop of precious stream water, deciding daily that I need to offer it first to the people I love. So forgive me if I don’t respond quickly (or at all). If something slips my mind, or if I opt out of something you’d like me to be a part of.
Maybe one day I’ll be that boss lady, high-capacity, inbox zero woman again. But for now, this is it.
This is me. This is all I have to give.
And, though my capacity is smaller, my days are much fuller than ever before.. with the things that matter.