On Taking Time off on Working Parents' Day
Today’s blog post comes to us from certified book coach Erin Gibes. Ahead of National Working Parents’ Day, we are featuring blog posts from certified coaches who balance parenting in addition to working full or part-time. If you’re interested in learning more about book coaching, you can read more here and download a sample chapter of Jennie Nash’s book, Read Books All Day & Get Paid for It.
Erin Gibes
Certified Book Coach
Labor Day was not supposed to be a day off for me.
My deadlines were looming (including the deadline to write this blog post on the topic of Working Parents’ Day). I had planned on my usual strategy for days when I don’t have childcare, which is to spend an hour or two working during my son’s TV or tablet time interspersed with trips to the park, the library, running errands, or a combination. I can usually get at least 2-3 blocks of one to one-and-a-half hours of work time squeezed in this way. But on this Labor Day, I had nothing left – no energy, no brain power, and a kid who was whiny, cranky, and overtired.
My son hadn’t slept the night before. And I don’t mean he didn’t sleep well, I mean sleep didn't happen for him, at all, which means sleep didn't happen for me either. My son later attributed his insomnia to having seen a Chucky costume at Walmart (in the little kid's costume section! Next to a Paw Patrol costume!). We didn’t discuss the costume at all – he didn’t even know what it was and I didn’t want to explain it – I just slid the next costume on the rack in front of it without much thought. But as my son tried, unsuccessfully, to go to sleep later that night that he told me he couldn’t get the image out of his head – “It had a knife and there was blood and it was scary.” I hear you kid, I never liked Chucky either.
So he didn’t sleep, and I didn't sleep, except for a couple of hours between about 3-6 am during which I gave up, told him we could have a slumber party, and we went into the living room to watch Bluey (if you’re not a parent of young kids, I can only tell you that there is no better cure for Chucky than Bluey). So my son watched TV and I snuck a nap on the couch (is it still called a nap if it’s 3 am? Probably not).
So later that morning, even when faced with my deadline anxiety, I gave in. I wrote a brain-dump list of everything I needed to get done – and decided it could all wait until Tuesday. My son and I stayed in our pajamas, played Uno, built things with legos, watched a movie, played a few video games together, ordered Chinese delivery for lunch, and ate popcorn and apples for dinner.
During the moments when my son was watching TV, I was also able to give some attention to my long-neglected TBR pile. At the top of the pile was The Mother Trip by Arel Gore (a fellow single mom writer). In it, she mentioned a quote by Gertrude Stein that I underlined: “It takes a heap of loafing to write a book.”
Ariel Gore adds, “It takes a heap of loafing to be a parent."
I underlined that line too.
It felt especially fitting to me as I ate Chinese food from the container in my jammies, reading my book while my son watched more Bluey and played with his Legos spread all over the floor.
Because loafing isn’t always lazy. We need these slower moments, the downtime between activities, the vast space between what I need to do and done. We need thinking, absorbing, and reflecting time.
Natalie Goldberg, in Writing Down the Bones, calls this process composting. It’s one of my favorite analogies because we can’t have the beauty of a garden (overflowing with herbs, vegetables, and flowers) without waste. It reminds me that what seems like wasted time isn’t wasted. It’s compost for your creative garden.
The day I volunteered to write a blog post for Author Accelerator on the topic of Working Parents Day was the same day that I learned Working Parents Day was actually a thing.
And as it turners out, Working Parents Day comes right on the heels of Labor Day in the US. This is fitting, because all parents have full-time jobs, even if they aren’t also working for a paycheck, and working parents, especially single working parents, have two full-time jobs (at least).
And all parents, those who work and those who don’t, still need time to loaf, compost, and connect with their children.
Book coaching is my labor of choice, and most days it’s hard work. It’s a lot of thinking, planning, strategizing, emotional labor, and long hours in front of a computer screen. Starting and growing a business also takes patience and time, and there have definitely been periods of feast or famine as I learned to navigate this path.
But book coaching also gives me the flexibility to work from my phone for a few hours while I sit next to my kid on the couch, take a break to play a round of Uno, or just stop and read a book when I need a dose of compassionate understanding from a fellow single mom. It means I’m my own boss, so I get to be the one to decide if I need to push through and work after I put my kid to bed, or if I need to extend a deadline and choose sleep. It lets me be available for things like back-to-school nights, birthday parties, or lazy Labor Days in front of the TV.
Book coaching has also given me the gift of learning to treasure the slower moments.
These moments — the in-between, the seemingly-empty-but-not-actually-empty potential space is necessary for parenting, working, and creating. It frees me up to allow for composting, which is something I never had in a traditional 9-5 job.
It’s not always simple or easy. I still struggle not to feel guilty about the times when I’m not actively working, and there is probably less loafing going on than my son and I both need. But the decision of how to prioritize my time is mine alone.
Book coaching means I get a choice – and it’s a powerful one. I’m grateful for this work every single day.
So if you are a fellow working parent, consider celebrating working parents' day with some loafing around – add some waste to your creative compost. I’m mostly certain you’ve neglected it, and absolutely certain you deserve it.
