How To Do the Things You Love When You're Just Plain Tired

How To Do the Things You Love When You're Just Plain Tired


We had such a beautiful time in Mexico—awakening creative spirits and remembering what its like to cater to our every whim—that I think life became a bit harder when we came home. It didn’t help, of course, that we arrived home at the end of February, just in time for my most hated month of the year. I had quite freely been telling anyone who asked about my mood that “I hate March” and wanting it to be clarifying and forgiving of all of my bad behavior. And while it may have been informational for others, it still felt cruddy for me.

Cold, dark days led to a lot of sadness. And with sadness comes the void of any creative spark. I’d rather watch Gilmore Girls for the 50th time and live vicariously through Rory’s journalistic victories than pick up a pen myself, or put my fingers to any keyboards.

I feel good that I was very vocal about my angst, because I had the chance to hear from many of my closest friends about how they were feeling and what they were doing to get through their own seasonal depression…I even got my Tarot cards read, which offered a lot of hope and perspective.

March has finally given way to April, and while memory will probably serve that as the reason for the new lightness of being that I am experiencing, I received an important piece of advice that I am guessing is the real reason for my coming around. My gem of a friend who somehow gets everything done, all of the time, despite innumerable obstacles set out to stop her told me: do it small.

How to do the things you love when you’re just plain tired, or have writer’s block, or feel jack frost’s middle finger pressing against your window when it is supposed to be spring and you just can’t get out of bed? Do it small. Do one little thing every day that reminds you of your joy in productivity. So what was my small thing today? I submitted to the New York Times new parenting newsletter. Just two sentences. Because I promised my husband I would, and because he always has my best interest in mine.

The NYT was asking for two sentence submissions of our “Tiny Victories” in parenting. For better of for worse, here is mine:

After wishfully pinning a catalogue photo of a toddler play kitchen to my cork-board, I stumbled upon a beautiful, almost pristine one out on the curb for trash day in our neighborhood. I wrestled it on top of the grocery filled stroller, bundled my son up in my arms, and carefully walked home to the cheers of encouragement from parents passing by.

Maybe winter’s sad spell has been broken for now…

A Natural Tree

A Natural Tree