Just A Minute

"Just a minute" is a phrase that runs rampant through my life... and causes me no end of grief. There was a time when it used to be an innocuous placeholder- "Just a minute and I can answer your question, give you my thoughts on that, address the next issue, etc."- but now it is an encumbered phrase in my life. The first layer it carries has to do with working at home and time spent with my daughter. "Just a minute" is most often uttered when I am trying to answer a client email or some other computer-related task and pay simultaneous attention to my daughter. As in, "Just a minute, honey. Mommy needs to answer this one last email before we..." I suppose it is the equal peril of the work I do and trying to fit too much into too little time (more on that later). In that particular circumstance, the uttered phrase is followed by stabs of guilt coursing through my body, wishing I didn't have to put off my daughter a minute longer. Can I appease myself by saying it is a beneficial lesson in patience for her? She seems no worse for wear... The second layer it carries is annoyance. I am a person that prefers to execute tasks in a sequential manner. I think better- more clearly- when an issue or project is addressed in its discrete parts, from beginning to end. The constant interruptions do nothing for my productivity and feelings of satisfaction. There was a recent study that reflected that people do have less concentration and perform less well when multitasking. It does nothing to solve my current problems of having to split my day into slivers of work and home life. But it does validate my feelings on a certain level.

The last layer is the feeling of resignation. One of the phrases that has served me well as I navigate the waters of parenthood is, "It is what it is." And that most appropriately applies to this situation. Working part-time and out of my home some days allows me to be with my daughter. Having time with my daughter means that I will often be completing tasks in interrupted increments. It is what it is. There is also another kind of "just a minute," often uttered while talking to a friend on the phone, when my daughter has asked me a question or requires me to address a need. As in, "just a minute, I need to assist with the potty, help with a princess dress change, switch a DVD, etc..." Again, I feel guilty that I cannot provide my undivided attention. I like to be the friend who can listen, reflect, respond. But some days you're lucky to just get me on the phone. Period. And luckily, I have wonderful friends, most of whom (all of whom?) understand this circumstance. Every so often the irony hits me: professionally, I often counsel clients on issues of time management and life balance. But, like the shoemaker whose children have no new shoes, my own life balance occasionally suffers. I know that this is a time-limited circumstance. In a few short years I will be lamenting these days of unstructured time spent with my daughter. Until then, "just a minute" will serve me well.