“Mommy, what does gay mean?”
That’s what my five-year-old son Cheiron asked me this morning as he was putting his socks on, preparing for his exciting day at kindergarten.
The question came at the height of our morning family frenzy.
Cheiron and his sister, Circe, typically get up at 6:45 a.m. and the mommy-rushing show begins: “Eat your breakfast.” “Stop talking.” “Don’t pet the dog.” “Put away your dishes.”
I constantly have the fire under them so they make it to the bus and I can start my work day as early as possible. Today was no exception. I had lots to do and needed them to get the heck out of kitchen, up to the bathroom to wash up, and quickly dress for the day. I needed to start extra early today so my husband stepped in for his morning shift early to help getting shoes on, and walking them to the bus.
Everything was going well. I was in the bathroom reading three newspapers early, and knocks on the door by my kids with a host of problems and questions were easily dealt with.
Circe came to my door to tell me Jack from “Little House on the Prairie”, the dog from the book we were reading together last night, had actually survived the flood. She had read ahead when she was done fixing her bed and wanted to share her happiness with me that Jack was indeed still alive. I said, “that’s so great C,” and she headed off to read some more.
I was done with my morning rituals ready to jump in the shower when the big question came from Cheiron, who was finishing dressing in his bedroom. “What does gay mean?”
It was a like a needle scratching a record. I suddenly realized I couldn’t just blow him off with a short answer and head for the shower.
“What?”, I said, hoping maybe I didn’t hear him right but knowing deep inside what I had heard.
“What is gay mommy?” “Where did you hear that,” I asked. “I don’t know. What is it?”
So I sat down with the little bugger, who doesn’t miss anything going on around him and always wants to know what everything means.
I realized by entering his bedroom and sitting down on the bed I was probably sending my whole day out of whack.
It wasn’t time for a special mommy and Cheiron moment but what choice did I have.
We have come to convince ourselves that somehow we can attain this thing called “work-life balance”, but unfortunately folks it doesn’t exist.
My morning was a tiny example of this. What I went through wasn’t a tragedy. People have to juggle much worse, or aren’t even lucky enough to see their kids during the breakfast routine. But the bottom line is you can’t plan on things, and you can’t balance life in any way shape or form.
No one can plan for a talk about homosexuality at 7:15 a.m.
That’s the key right there, you can’t plan for what life throws you, especially if you have a family to deal with.
OK, I know I sound dire, but don’t give up on life yet.
I called a blogger colleague of mine Cali Yost, who has a great concept of “Work-Life Fit”, not balance. She offers some hope.
It’s all about having some general idea of what your day will be like, she says. Given that, you can probably get 75 percent of what you want accomplished done.
Not bad odds I guess.
“People just let life happen to them,” says Yost, who is author of “Work+Life: Finding the Fit That’s Right for You.” “In this 24-7 high-tech, global world reality, you’re asking for trouble with that.”
She says the ten minutes I took explaining gayness to my son shouldn’t have been a major issue. “You’ll probably make that up somewhere else in the day. Maybe you say, ‘I’m not going to watch American Idol tonight.’”
The key, she advises, is having contingency plans for those busy days, or for that unexpected project at work. Most of us don’t have those plans, she adds.
So, here are some things to keep in mind from Yost’s book of balance:
* Have a contingency plan in place. I always say, parents should over hire child care.
* Be thoughtful and conscious of what you want to accomplish in a day, a week, a month, a year.
* Know you can plan for 75 percent of what will happen on a good day.
* And don’t, don’t, don’t beat yourself up when things aren’t perfect.
Maybe you don’t have that talk with your son in the morning. “You could have said, ’sorry honey, we’ll totally talk about it tonight.’”
“It’s okay,” she adds, “if he learns what gay means tonight.”