Motivation for Mundane Work

I've had a hard time getting "it" (as in much of anything) done this month.  I'm tired and a little cranky about the need for days to be so calculated. I start the day knowing what should be tackled by when - but then the open time comes, and I just want to nap with Julian or grab a book and lie on the couch with a blanket.  Both fine things, but neither will cook dinner or get uniforms ready for game time.  

Last week during one of J's naps, I was in the middle of (failing at) forcing myself to be a grown-up when I remembered that I actually have strategies for these times; I was just dragging so much that I hadn't even thought of them.  And since telling stuff to the world wide internets seems to bully my brain into remembering (ah, the power of accountability), I thought it would behoove me and anyone else who needs a fire lit under them if I typed them out.  

1.  Make or fake a conversation.  Over the holidays, I enjoyed when I was part of the meal clean-up chores because there were always other people doing it with me.  We talked about good and hard stuff while rinsing dishes and filling leftover containers.  Time sped by, and it really didn't feel like a chore.  Then I came home and suddenly the post-meal work felt so long-lasting.  Boo.

Sometimes, there really isn't any other solution except to do the work.  (This reality is something I have been teaching the kids quite a bit lately, and they hate it as much as I do.)  There are evenings when I am adulting alone and can't allow my brain to go anywhere but to what my hands are doing in the kitchen and my ears are hearing of the children.  But when there is a little room in the equation, I like to make or fake a conversation.  By this, I mean finding someone to listen to while I work.  Sometimes I'll ask a child to pull up a chair and tell me about an event I haven't heard about yet or (hold me) the details on some fantasy sports game he has been imagining.  Other times, like during Julian's nap time, I fake a conversation, also known as the beauty of a podcast.  I find a topic that engages my mind and I listen while prepping food, planning lessons, and folding laundry.  Lately, I've been enjoying the Jamie Ivey podcast, and my brain continues to be thinking through This American Life's episode 562.  (Listen to it and then let's have a real conversation about it.  Please!)

2.  Race yourself.  Mark laughs at me about this, and sometimes I laugh at myself, but when I am feeling like I don't want to work but oh man I have to, I literally run the halls.  Usually on my tip-toes, I zip around returning things to their homes, etc.  It is absolutely goofy, but it keeps me from sitting down (because if I do I probably won't get back up!).   Similarly, if I find myself in a moment of pause, I try to challenge myself with it.  A piano student running late?  Maybe I can get some lesson paperwork done before she gets here.  My turn to count for hide and seek?  Maybe I can fold these napkins before I reach 30 and say "ready or not, here I come." 

3.  Cross off the little things first.  When the list looks long, I start with the easiest and quickest tasks.  Conquering a task, even a tiny one, builds momentum, and that momentum is definitely needed for getting anything done when I've been dragging.  For me, this usually looks like calling in a prescription renewal or returning an email.

4.  Just start.  I often don't start a task because I don't think I'll have enough time to finish it.  However, I can actually use this need-for-closure as a tool - because if I just start that task, it will bug me enough to use any possible open time to finish it.  Truly, this reality is how I get any laundry put away, and how I finally recovered the dining room chairs.  [Method for completion: Ask to borrow a staple gun and give a specific return date.  Deadlines are your friends.  Have husband take seats apart in middle of main living space.  Observe the chaos and potential danger surrounding you; act quickly before children wake up.  Celebrate having liquid-resistant seating every.single.spilling.day.]

5.  Surrender.  Last week, I was bone-tired and not feeling super, but there were things that had to be done for the boys' next day.  Try as I did, however, I absolutely couldn't muster up a bit of energy to do it - so I surrendered.  I wrote a list of what was imperative to have ready for the next morning, and then I picked up the book Eli had recommended to me (Wonder by R. J. Palacio - so good) and enjoyed the couch.  Surely this must be the worst way to find motivation for mundane work - yet it was exactly what was needed.  My boys need to know that I am not a robot.  I need to know that I am not a robot.  And when I woke up a little earlier the next morning, you better believe the deadline of school departure lit the fire under me that I needed to crank out the lunches and the permission slips and the paperwork.