Priorities

Just a few months ago, I underwent one of the most stressful experiences of my life:  defining my priorities. This isn't the day-to-day priorities. It isn't the laundry first, dishes later priorities. It was my life's priorities and how my choices were going to reflect, or impact, those priorities.

I'll be honest, for a long time my priorities went undefined. I could balance my life pretty well that this "checklist, honest to goodness, note card, life changing" definition of priorities hadn't been necessary. I knew family was important, I knew self fulfillment was important, I knew my job was important. But I didn't know how they ranked next to one another - and what that meant for my future. 

Those of you who know me know that I've been building a resume since the tender grade of 8. I went to a fair at Pine Middle School to look at classes coming down the pipeline for my first high school experience -and that's when I came across JROTC (Junior Reserve Officer Training Corp). And while a great motivator for ultimately selecting this program was that I hated PE, an even greater one was my resume. 

Four and a half years later I was presenting to an active duty General, me second in command for JROTC at my high school. I got asked the question, "Why did you do JROTC?" and my response was "Because it looks better on a resume than PE." Now, I received a lot of fulfillment from this program - public speaking, leadership, and confidence to name a few. But I have always been thinking of the future for myself professionally. 

And then life happened, and shit, was I in trouble. 

For those of you who don't know, Tay (my daughter) was a ... surprise. And thankfully, my life happened to work out again - primarily because I had this amazing support system through my family, my work, and my coworkers. So I avoided the "priorities" discussion because I maintained. 

Then I had the opportunity of a life time. I got called to interview at a large company in the bay area after they had seen me present. And Lindsey, the go-getter, the resume builder, couldn't turn down the experience to at least try for the position. 

I'll let you in on a secret - I kept secretly hoping that they wouldn't pick me. Seriously. I didn't want to face the discussion of priorities that would face me if I got the job. How cowardly is that? 

Because if you have been maintaining for a while, let me tell you, this discussion was the hardest six weeks of discussions. I sought out advice, I wrote, I asked my family, I thought. For once it seemed my priorities would come out in the open, that I couldn't maintain, because they would directly conflict one another. 

So here I am - professional, hard worker, go getter, A-game...mommy, wife, family member. And yes, these items can directly contradict each other. 

I thought I was balancing it well - because I was a professional. I spoke at conferences, I presented to clients. I made an impact. And I did it from home. I got to be there for Taylor - for my husband, for my family. I could take time off to help a sick friend. But this new job required a move, one that would take me outside of my sphere of influence and comfort. 

So I had to decide - would moving, including almost a 2 hour daily commute, a long work week, and family only on vacation and holidays, be enough to fulfill the priority of family? 

And would not choosing this new position leave me so unfulfilled that I would be depressed? I have known for a long time about myself that I am happy working, that I am fulfilled, that I am more at peace when I am accessing my professional side. So, by not choosing this position, was I leaving a portion of myself untapped? 

And then I was offered the job. Life. Decisions. 

I decided on family. 

No, it wasn't this easy discussion where I came to this after a good night's sleep and morning cup of coffee. It was six grueling weeks of defining what actually gave me happiness. 

And do you know what it was? 

It was the little things. 

Seriously. Not to be cliche - because I know that is the name of my blog. But it was the little things.  Every minute, every picture I see, every random time that I see Taylor with her Grandmas, grandpas, cousins, and father, I know I made the right decision. Every time I need an extra hand (which is a lot), any time I need support, I need care and love, I know I made the right decision. 

But I'm still a working mom - because I am still, at heart, a go getter, resume maker, professional kind of girl. And I want Taylor to know that she can access every portion of herself to find her sense of fulfillment. During those six weeks of discussions, I found that the main reason I received professional fulfillment was the ability to have an impact. I wanted to know that I was valued, that I was changing the work, that what I did mattered to those around me. 

At the end of my life, I won't want to be remembered for that last minute branding change. I don't know that I even need to be remembered. I just want to fill my life with as much of love as I possibly can so I can value the ride. 

My Unfortunate Favorite Memory

We were living in Portland at the time, Taylor was approximately 6 months old. We were fully overwhelmed as parents, but taking it in stride. Oh yeah, and it was Mother's Day. My first Mother's Day.

Let me let you in on a little secret before I begin. As a parent, planning is everything but also nothing. You can work your ass off to ensure the little one gets a three hour nap - but maybe that day they decided to keep you on your toes and took three twenty minute naps (if you're lucky).

It's when the stars align that you really feel like you have your shit together. The problem is that the stars aligning is terribly misleading, and what was thought of as competence was actually luck. The saying "Luck counts, but don't count on luck" has become an ingrained motto since Taylor was born.

But back to the memory. We were sitting outside of Wetzel's Pretzels, salivating over the smell of freshly baked dough while deciding on what exactly we were supposed to do next. You see, it was coming on 4 pm. We could:
    a) Leave for home then (this mall was approximately 45 minutes away from our house) OR
    b) Eat dinner at the mall, knowing that we were coming into Tay's witching hour and risk it anyway

While we were deciding, Taylor decided to take it upon herself to be incredibly cute. You've all seen her pictures. It's a common occurrence. She started squealing.

And holy crap did we become the most obnoxious parents ever. Not only did we encourage the behavior, but we started making the sound back, much to the chagrin of every other person in the mall. We didn't care. We were playing with the cutest baby in the world.

Here's the kicker: this isn't my favorite part of my favorite memory. It's what happened at dinner.

What happened at dinner, you ask?

Nothing.

Nothing happened at dinner.

Chris and I got to eat our first meal together, while Taylor stared innocently at the wall, cooing, babbling, and being 100% content to do 100% nothing. We got to be a couple, instead of a family.

That's why I call this my unfortunate favorite memory. It's because we all experience these moments in time that we repeat in our heads saying, "I really want to remember this moment" - and months down the road, we don't. (It's one of the reasons I blog). I'm not sure that I would always want to admit that this was one of my favorite memories.
 
Instead we are left with nasty memories, random moments, and something that you didn't really think was that important.

But reflecting on this particular moment, I've come to realize that it meant much more than I thought it would. Because being a parent is about balance. It's balancing Lindsey as a mom, Lindsey as a wife, and Lindsey as Lindsey. And this memory, this dinner, shows me that it's all possible.