Catherine Egan's Blog - Posts Tagged "breaking-up-is-hard-to-do"
In which I reconsider my relationship with The Internet
Dear Blog,
People talk about balance a lot. As in, Having A Balance. It gets talked about a lot in the context of working parents because it is particularly difficult to balance work and parenting when both areas of your life so often seem to require all of you, and you also need to take a shower sometimes. Being blissfully unemployed, I feel like my own balance ought to be a little simpler. Looking at the big picture, it is simple, and our days are full of happy adventures. We spend the mornings out and about Doing Things, and in the afternoon, the ideal scenario is that LittleK naps (more on this another time – le sigh), LittleJ has Quiet Time (secret fact: not so quiet), and I write: balance. But if you zoom in for a closer look, there is a lot of chaos and frustration. I like to pretend that I am balancing parenting and writing and that it is a difficult balance, but that’s not quite true, although it is sometimes true. Really, I think that my constant sense of imbalance is at least partly due to The Internet.
Now, I really like the internet. I like the ease and speed of keeping in touch over e-mail (she says, with a sheepish glance towards friends she owes e-mails to). I like the expanding circle of people I am able to keep in touch with over facebook, peeking in on their lives, exchanging little jokes, congratulations, commiseration, whatever. I am hooked on twitter too, where I find the most interesting links to articles and blogs and reviews. I want the news and the commentary and the book chat and the funny and / or thought-provoking posts and tweets, all that. I like you, blog. You are a lot of fun!
I don’t want to give any of it up. But there is no Internet O’Clock, that is the problem.
It’s too easy and too tempting and, unlike a newspaper, it is endless - that’s the other problem.
Here is how it goes, most days: I sit the boys down for breakfast and I catch up on the news. I may answer questions and requests incorrectly or ignore them completely, but nobody seems too fussed. At some point the boys get down from the table and go off to play, and the neenerdeath, who is becoming less shy, will often join them (though it still avoids ME, unless I am offering popcorn). So, since everyone is happy for the moment, I check facebook, poring enviously over a friend’s vacation photos or whatever, and then twitter, where I follow a too-tempting-to-ignore link which leads to another and then another, and then all of a sudden 45 minutes have disappeared and LittleK has taken his diaper off and peed on the floor and LittleJ is up on the counter trying to dismantle the toaster oven with a screwdriver and the neenerdeath is emptying the cupboards out looking for popcorn and we are all in our pajamas (except the neenerdeath, who does not wear pajamas) and it’s well past nine o’clock. So I leave the very interesting blog on the difficulties of writing historical fiction for later; I mop up the pee, take the screwdriver away from LittleJ, give the neenerdeath some popcorn, rush through the dishes while the three of them have a jumping off the sofa contest which leads to LittleK bumping his head, so I break that up and ice the bump, decide to leave the rest of the dishes, and then I need to get both boys on the potty, brush teeth, wash hands, get dressed, find shoes and coats, get a snack and drinks, and by the time we get out of the house it is 10 o’clock and they are cranky because they’ve been cooped up for hours waiting for me to get my shit together and our morning out is sadly shortened. Lunch rolls round and we repeat the process, more or less.
I try (and generally succeed) to keep my Writing Time sacred. And I try (and sometimes succeed) to keep that sliver of evening between the boys going to bed and my own collapse computer-free. So it spills over into the rest of the day, and instead of doing the millions of things I ought to be doing, I am reading reviews on goodreads, giggling at facebook statuses, and retweeting clever people on twitter.
It is fun, but I feel guilty about it too and I wonder if life would be simpler and we would all perhaps be happier without The Internet. Maybe I would use some of that time to meditate! Maybe I would use some of it to clean the bathroom and fold laundry and plan meals in advance. And then maybe I would be a serene person who never snaps unjustly at her children, with a clean apartment and fresh cookies cooling on the counter.
So obviously, I should give up the internet. But I do not want to give up the internet!
I am curious about how other people (with kids, with jobs, with friends, with artistic aspirations, with meals to make and floors to sweep and sleeps to sleep and all of that) fit The Internet into their busy lives. Is it a problem (or do I have a problem)? Do you have rules, a system? Is balance possible? Does it feel like time well-spent or time wasted (I mean in general, ahem, not this particular blog post)? Does it make you feel connected to other people all over the world, or disconnected from the people in the room with you? All thoughts and suggestions are welcome. I am not going to break up with The Internet. But I am reconsidering the parameters of our relationship.
Yours, amid the unwashed dishes,
Catherine
People talk about balance a lot. As in, Having A Balance. It gets talked about a lot in the context of working parents because it is particularly difficult to balance work and parenting when both areas of your life so often seem to require all of you, and you also need to take a shower sometimes. Being blissfully unemployed, I feel like my own balance ought to be a little simpler. Looking at the big picture, it is simple, and our days are full of happy adventures. We spend the mornings out and about Doing Things, and in the afternoon, the ideal scenario is that LittleK naps (more on this another time – le sigh), LittleJ has Quiet Time (secret fact: not so quiet), and I write: balance. But if you zoom in for a closer look, there is a lot of chaos and frustration. I like to pretend that I am balancing parenting and writing and that it is a difficult balance, but that’s not quite true, although it is sometimes true. Really, I think that my constant sense of imbalance is at least partly due to The Internet.
Now, I really like the internet. I like the ease and speed of keeping in touch over e-mail (she says, with a sheepish glance towards friends she owes e-mails to). I like the expanding circle of people I am able to keep in touch with over facebook, peeking in on their lives, exchanging little jokes, congratulations, commiseration, whatever. I am hooked on twitter too, where I find the most interesting links to articles and blogs and reviews. I want the news and the commentary and the book chat and the funny and / or thought-provoking posts and tweets, all that. I like you, blog. You are a lot of fun!
I don’t want to give any of it up. But there is no Internet O’Clock, that is the problem.
It’s too easy and too tempting and, unlike a newspaper, it is endless - that’s the other problem.
Here is how it goes, most days: I sit the boys down for breakfast and I catch up on the news. I may answer questions and requests incorrectly or ignore them completely, but nobody seems too fussed. At some point the boys get down from the table and go off to play, and the neenerdeath, who is becoming less shy, will often join them (though it still avoids ME, unless I am offering popcorn). So, since everyone is happy for the moment, I check facebook, poring enviously over a friend’s vacation photos or whatever, and then twitter, where I follow a too-tempting-to-ignore link which leads to another and then another, and then all of a sudden 45 minutes have disappeared and LittleK has taken his diaper off and peed on the floor and LittleJ is up on the counter trying to dismantle the toaster oven with a screwdriver and the neenerdeath is emptying the cupboards out looking for popcorn and we are all in our pajamas (except the neenerdeath, who does not wear pajamas) and it’s well past nine o’clock. So I leave the very interesting blog on the difficulties of writing historical fiction for later; I mop up the pee, take the screwdriver away from LittleJ, give the neenerdeath some popcorn, rush through the dishes while the three of them have a jumping off the sofa contest which leads to LittleK bumping his head, so I break that up and ice the bump, decide to leave the rest of the dishes, and then I need to get both boys on the potty, brush teeth, wash hands, get dressed, find shoes and coats, get a snack and drinks, and by the time we get out of the house it is 10 o’clock and they are cranky because they’ve been cooped up for hours waiting for me to get my shit together and our morning out is sadly shortened. Lunch rolls round and we repeat the process, more or less.
I try (and generally succeed) to keep my Writing Time sacred. And I try (and sometimes succeed) to keep that sliver of evening between the boys going to bed and my own collapse computer-free. So it spills over into the rest of the day, and instead of doing the millions of things I ought to be doing, I am reading reviews on goodreads, giggling at facebook statuses, and retweeting clever people on twitter.
It is fun, but I feel guilty about it too and I wonder if life would be simpler and we would all perhaps be happier without The Internet. Maybe I would use some of that time to meditate! Maybe I would use some of it to clean the bathroom and fold laundry and plan meals in advance. And then maybe I would be a serene person who never snaps unjustly at her children, with a clean apartment and fresh cookies cooling on the counter.
So obviously, I should give up the internet. But I do not want to give up the internet!
I am curious about how other people (with kids, with jobs, with friends, with artistic aspirations, with meals to make and floors to sweep and sleeps to sleep and all of that) fit The Internet into their busy lives. Is it a problem (or do I have a problem)? Do you have rules, a system? Is balance possible? Does it feel like time well-spent or time wasted (I mean in general, ahem, not this particular blog post)? Does it make you feel connected to other people all over the world, or disconnected from the people in the room with you? All thoughts and suggestions are welcome. I am not going to break up with The Internet. But I am reconsidering the parameters of our relationship.
Yours, amid the unwashed dishes,
Catherine
