I Wish You Lived Next Door
A few reflections on loneliness, bandwidth and [attempting] to build community as I wrap up parental leave.
Hello Friends,
My bestie gave me this candle awhile back, and the sentiment sticks with me. In this strange season of waiting and taking care of a toddler, I feel lonely and afraid of new beginnings.
As kiddo picks up and plays with toys or books from various people who love us, I’m held in the reminder that we are so loved and not alone. He blows into the harmonica from my uncle, takes the puppy from my aunt everywhere, hides the balls from another aunt in a toy from one grandma, pushes the car from another grandma, tries to ride on a truck from a friend, pulls a hungry dinosaur from another friend, and on and on.
And I watch all this with a sense of gratitude for the reminders of people with us even as the world suddenly got very small this June as I was on parent leave. The world became trips to the zoo, libraries, parks and other appointments. I had plans for get togethers with my own friends and other adults, but the bandwidth for planning or adjusting routines was just tapped out. I wish more of my friends and family lived closer, so impromptu hangs and bumping into each other in our routines were easier.
Time this month became about figuring out how to stay regulated myself and putting together puzzle pieces of what kiddo needs to function. The time has been a gift, and also I’m finding this month is just long enough to cozy into new routines and make returning to old ones feel uncertain and terrifying.
There’s freedom in finding things that work and the knowledge that I can figure out what to do with a kid with this much time at home. Even more, this time was delightful, healing and bonding.
Because it was better than expected, there’s deeper fear of whether the next care situation will be better. What can we do to try to not have a repeat of this kind of up and down chaotic stress of the past few months?
I would like control and predictability please, and a road map for how to make it all okay, eventually.
And yet, that’s not what’s offered.
There is finding folks who know a little more than me, and consulting with folks who’ve got a few more tools in their kits. But still, at the end of the day, it’s us making decisions and hoping for the best with our nerves frazzled. Choose our own adventure. Some paths are blatantly best avoided, but everything else — figure out what I can live with and try to not pick battles about too many things and eventually give up on taking myself so seriously.
At the end of this month of leave, I know more than I did when I began. It’s still a far cry from what I’d like to know and have figured out. And also capitalism makes life hard for all of us, and this election cycle is already leaving me on edge.
I don’t think I’m unique in this. And I wonder how many of us are living on heightened anxiety and fear and reduced bandwidth.
Perhaps my biggest learning in this month of narrowed focus is noticing when my bandwidth is tapped out and practicing giving myself what I need to get back in functioning margins.
Do I need a snack? Some water? Time for dumping my thoughts in a journal (or a Substack post)? Space to make some kind of art? Do I just need to go to bed instead of doomscrolling on my phone? The answer to this one is almost always yes, no matter what justification I try to give myself otherwise. Just go to bed. Mindless scrolling at night will only lead to a crabby me whose patience with toddler whines gets short the next day.
In this next season, mostly what I need is the same thing I’m trying to teach my kid: how to make new friends with people in similar life stages. To that end, we’ve been exploring our local parks and libraries to connect with others in community. There’s been successes and struggles, and trying to make parent friends as he makes kid friends is as bad as the awkwardness of early dating — discerning when to let the kids figure it out themselves and when to jump in especially when someone else’s kid does something to my kid and the other parent is oblivious. Also, the amount of bias and racism Kiddo experiences in play spaces already at this age is rage-inducing.
Figuring this all out is a puzzle. It’s exhausting, but also there’s slow progress. And growth takes time. All I can do is keep figuring out places to show up, and leave myself enough bandwidth for connection and curiosity.
What’s On My Book Shelf Recently
Over the past few weeks I’ve read Saving Time: Discovering a Life Beyond the Clock by Jenny Odell, On the Clock: What Low Wage Work Did to Me and How It Makes America Insane by Emily Guendelsberger, Scarcity: Why Having Too Little Means So Much by Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir. (There’s also been countless children’s books read as Kiddo discovered the library this summer, and no lie, we’re at the library 3-5 times a week since libraries are currently his favorite place in the world.)
Reading Odell’s book opened up a whole rabbit trail of reading for me — it lead to the discovery of the other two books, plus another one that’s on my to be read shelf called Sand Talk.
And a theme in between all of them connects with my own existential questions about how do I spend the time granted me in this life, and how do I, when I’m able, protect my own bandwidth to show up for what matters most to me. And they connect with my own worries about a changing landscape of work for young people growing up now.
Questions for You
Because I’m hoping for some kind of community here in this Substack space, I also have a few questions for you if you’re willing to play along for one or more of them.
How’s your bandwidth these days? What practices help keep you from getting stretched too thin? Or what helps you know when you’re over capacity and something has to give?
What’s on your bookshelf to read these days?
Any recommendations for toddler books that are silly or musical? I’ve about exhausted options at my local library, and I’m looking for recommendations to reserve. I gravitate toward the meaningful messaging or educational, and I’m noticing a need from kiddo for more silly and playful.
Thanks for reading along friends! I’m grateful for your curiosity about my writing and presence on the journey here! I’ll write again two weeks from now.
Peace on all our journeys in the meantime,
Elizabeth
I love the candle and what it says and means. I wish so many times I lived closer to you and your family, as
well as, my girls and grandkids. Being so spread out has a tendency to leave me feeling alone too. The thought crossed my mind…I need to come up. Just to be physically close. FaceTime is precious, but it’s not the same.
I have so many books I can suggest, for Kiddo and some for you. I’ll look for them and send a list.
I love the use of your word “bandwidth!” I don’t often think of it that way, when I’m feeling alone or stressed, but I get it. I totally get it. For me….I walk, I practice Yoga with Adrienne for specific poses that help me relax. I talk to God…OUT LOUD, I cry (not very often any more), it only helps temporarily. I call Leslie mostly. Or a friend occasionally. I search my Bible for PEACE verses and doing all of this I use my BREATH. Deep breathing creates space in my body to think straight.
You can FaceTime me or Marco Polo me anytime you need to decompress or vent. I love you so very much and there’s absolutely no judgment here on feeling overwhelmed.
You could probably talk to Leslie too. She has walked this road with Quinn and is still walking it today.
I know you and Jason are a great support to each other. It is bigger than the two of you, so share your feelings with each other. It helps.