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Now, my days consisted of assisting my eldest with virtual school (started as a kindergartner, carried on to first grade) while keeping a newborn alive! The anxiety kept rolling in. Are my kids happy? Is he learning enough? Am I doing enough to help him?</p><p id="7d44">I wrote the poem above in the middle of an anxiety-ridden cluster of thoughts, I jotted it down in less than five minutes, because any more time I spent on it, would have lost me time I needed. I just wanted more time, more time to think, to rest, more time to be enough in each moment I was needed.</p><p id="5ee6">Nowadays I stick to a schedule. I realize as long as my kids are healthy and happy, I am happy as well. What doesn’t get done will get done when I get to it. I even make time for myself now, if I find the time to read and write, I consider myself well taken care of, as well. The anxiety still rolls around from time to time as an off day is bound to happen once in a while. But we’ve made it this far, and we keep it going.</p><blockquote id="cb4b"><p>“There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow. Today is the right day to love, do, and mostly live.” -Dalai Lama</p></blockquote><p id="ad57">I was tagged by <a href="undefined">Sharing Randomly</a></p><div id="9d39" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-can-do-nothing-nothing-at-all-e4d3e2042b4"> <div> <div> <h2>I Can Do Nothing, Nothing at All</h2> <div><h3>You can change the outcome if you give

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your all, but sometimes you just can’t</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*wofyQVKuZ108V_6v)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="aca8">in her response to a poetry prompt from <a href="undefined">Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她)</a></p><div id="7a8f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/oh-no-have-i-created-accidental-clickbait-942f7f9ae928"> <div> <div> <h2>Oh No, Have I Created Accidental Clickbait?</h2> <div><h3>a poem, and a moist one, at that</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*vFLy6DTDrS5UaaY88cQISA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="1001">I am also tagging other poets from The Brain is a Noodle <a href="undefined">Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles</a> <a href="undefined">Greg Proffit</a> <a href="undefined">Niru</a> <a href="undefined">Betsy Denson</a> <a href="undefined">Luke DeLalio</a> <a href="undefined">Rachella Angel Page</a> to share in Lucy’s prompt, <b><i>“what’s something that gives you the sweats, or other physical symptoms of anxiety? What is this anxiety highlighting, and how do you serve this need within you without building into the anxiety?”</i></b></p></article></body>

I wanted more time

More time to think more time to rest more time to reflect

The more time I wanted the more was taken from me

The world keeps asking for more more screens more consumption more of nothing

Less time

This is my daily battle. The anxious thoughts of, why aren’t there enough hours in the day? What can I do to manage my time more efficiently?

When I was working a full time job, my mornings consisted of rushing to get ready, to get my little boy ready, making sure he was happy and well fed. Dropping him off to daycare on time, getting to work on time. After that my eight hour work day consisted of the mom guilt embedded in to my brain of wanting to be with him while managing a small office and doing what I was apparently hired to do. On to my evening rush to get home to be with my baby while making dinner, cleaning up, getting him ready for bed on time so that we can wake up in the morning to do it all again.

I still get this kind of anxiety now as a stay at home mom. After having a second baby in the middle of a pandemic, the hours in the day still seemed much too short. Now, my days consisted of assisting my eldest with virtual school (started as a kindergartner, carried on to first grade) while keeping a newborn alive! The anxiety kept rolling in. Are my kids happy? Is he learning enough? Am I doing enough to help him?

I wrote the poem above in the middle of an anxiety-ridden cluster of thoughts, I jotted it down in less than five minutes, because any more time I spent on it, would have lost me time I needed. I just wanted more time, more time to think, to rest, more time to be enough in each moment I was needed.

Nowadays I stick to a schedule. I realize as long as my kids are healthy and happy, I am happy as well. What doesn’t get done will get done when I get to it. I even make time for myself now, if I find the time to read and write, I consider myself well taken care of, as well. The anxiety still rolls around from time to time as an off day is bound to happen once in a while. But we’ve made it this far, and we keep it going.

“There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow. Today is the right day to love, do, and mostly live.” -Dalai Lama

I am also tagging other poets from The Brain is a Noodle Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles Greg Proffit Niru Betsy Denson Luke DeLalio Rachella Angel Page to share in Lucy’s prompt, “what’s something that gives you the sweats, or other physical symptoms of anxiety? What is this anxiety highlighting, and how do you serve this need within you without building into the anxiety?”

More

I Can Do Nothing, Nothing at All

You can change the outcome if you give your all, but sometimes you just can’t

Oh No, Have I Created Accidental Clickbait?

a poem, and a moist one, at that