I write for a living. Not only blogs like this one, but also parenting books, creative plans, advertising, Web copy, corporate messaging and even the occasional real estate brochure. As a result, I’m almost always facing an avalanche of deadlines. Even this very site requires me to post content four or five times a week. Sometimes, however, I simply can’t find the stuff to write about. It’s not that I’m “blocked,” but instead, I’m flat out cooked. Just done. Life gets the better of me.
I struggle greatly on these days. After all, look around – there must be something to write about. Listen to conversations, somewhere, someone must have said something that warrants my commentary. But there are those days like today when my goal isn’t so much to stop and smell the roses, as it is to just trample them. I didn’t have a bad day. In fact, I had a great day. I’m just tired.
Every once in a while, the day-in and day-out responsibilities that come with parenting get the best of me. Every now and then, the “Groundhog Day”-like existence we live – get up, walk dog, get kid, change diaper, get milk, watch Elmo, get dressed, take kid to school, go to work, pick up kid, go to firehouse, have dinner, crash in a heap – just gets the best of me. Deadlines be damned.
This, of course, isn’t K-Man’s fault. It’s not even my fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just a reality of life, right? I never know when absolute exhaustion is going to hit me over the head. Coming off our “19 hours,” I certainly didn’t expect it this week. I thought I’d be refreshed and ready to take on the world. Instead, I find myself at one with the couch, struggling to keep my eyes open at 8:30 PM. Oh wait. Now it’s 9:17. I’ve been staring at this page for more than 45 minutes. That can’t be good.
It’s funny, but I’m often asked how I like being a dad. I love being a dad. Greatest thing ever. But, wow. It can just suck the life out of you from time to time. Before getting to the office this morning, my business partner texted me a simple, telling message of two words: bad night. I knew exactly what this meant. His three-year old twin girls didn’t sleep well (to say the least). I knew that he’d be in late. I knew that his patience would be shot. I knew that, he too, was going to have a tough day.
Parenting comes with its own language and experiences. When we talk to other parents – whether they are friends or not – we will nod in agreement at stories about sleep, diapers, eating, or whatever. But, it also comes with an understanding of eye rolls, shrugs, and a virtual manual filled with silent cues. “How are things going?” A simple roll of the eyes with a shake of the head speaks volumes. “Yeah, man…I feel your pain.”
So, yes, I admit it. Despite my 19 hours off last weekend, I’m still fried. But, looking ahead, I’m sure it’s nothing a day of March Madness won’t be able to fix on Thursday. And then, I’ll REALLY have something to write about.
I struggle greatly on these days. After all, look around – there must be something to write about. Listen to conversations, somewhere, someone must have said something that warrants my commentary. But there are those days like today when my goal isn’t so much to stop and smell the roses, as it is to just trample them. I didn’t have a bad day. In fact, I had a great day. I’m just tired.
Every once in a while, the day-in and day-out responsibilities that come with parenting get the best of me. Every now and then, the “Groundhog Day”-like existence we live – get up, walk dog, get kid, change diaper, get milk, watch Elmo, get dressed, take kid to school, go to work, pick up kid, go to firehouse, have dinner, crash in a heap – just gets the best of me. Deadlines be damned.
This, of course, isn’t K-Man’s fault. It’s not even my fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just a reality of life, right? I never know when absolute exhaustion is going to hit me over the head. Coming off our “19 hours,” I certainly didn’t expect it this week. I thought I’d be refreshed and ready to take on the world. Instead, I find myself at one with the couch, struggling to keep my eyes open at 8:30 PM. Oh wait. Now it’s 9:17. I’ve been staring at this page for more than 45 minutes. That can’t be good.
It’s funny, but I’m often asked how I like being a dad. I love being a dad. Greatest thing ever. But, wow. It can just suck the life out of you from time to time. Before getting to the office this morning, my business partner texted me a simple, telling message of two words: bad night. I knew exactly what this meant. His three-year old twin girls didn’t sleep well (to say the least). I knew that he’d be in late. I knew that his patience would be shot. I knew that, he too, was going to have a tough day.
Parenting comes with its own language and experiences. When we talk to other parents – whether they are friends or not – we will nod in agreement at stories about sleep, diapers, eating, or whatever. But, it also comes with an understanding of eye rolls, shrugs, and a virtual manual filled with silent cues. “How are things going?” A simple roll of the eyes with a shake of the head speaks volumes. “Yeah, man…I feel your pain.”
So, yes, I admit it. Despite my 19 hours off last weekend, I’m still fried. But, looking ahead, I’m sure it’s nothing a day of March Madness won’t be able to fix on Thursday. And then, I’ll REALLY have something to write about.