Incrementally Awesome

I often marvel at just how many little "baby" steps are required for Imp to master skills. From the moment he first lifted his head, I imagined him romping through fields, chasing after squirrels and picking dandelions, not really thinking about how many steps there are between a head lift and romping. But as he grew, I began to recognize that, and I found myself getting excited at the smallest improvement. Every degree he lifted his head higher became a major achievement, and when he actually got his chest clearly off the floor -- whoa was that a big day. While, like any mother, I want my son to excel, slowly, I am learning not to anticipate or expect things to happen too quickly, but instead revel in and marvel at the little improvements and things he learns each day. Imp started crawling fairly early, and cruising soon after, but going from cruising to walking without support has been a difficult step. I try to wait patiently for the day when he gains enough confidence and balance to freely walk to me of his own accord, and to do so I find myself watching for all the tiny little things that make that eventual goal achievable. First it was standing on his own -- and each second he added before he collapsed to the floor. Then it was moving his feet. Then being able to move his feet and plant solidly to stand again after one step. Then two. Every increment is an achievement. By looking at each tiny step like this, I find it makes the days when he clearly has learned something big even more exciting.

As usual, what applies to babies and toddlers easily applies to adults. We often wait and wish for the big achievements without appreciating the small ones we make each day. In waiting we can get depressed at the length of time it takes to achieve our goals. Sometimes it is hard to see the small steps we take, but each one can be important, and often times essential, to achieving that end goal.

For example, in the Weight Watchers program (which I've done multiple times and am planning on doing again) there is a big emphasis on small goals. Looking down the road at the final weight loss goal can seem so far away, but if you aim for 5% or 10% of your weight -- or aim for goals that don't even measure on the scale (just keeping track of your food, or walking up an extra flight of stairs each day) -- you find that you are constantly able to achieve, and that end goal seems not as important, and at the same time, much more achievable. When I lose track on Weight Watchers, I find it is often because I am no longer paying attention to those smaller goals, or having trouble seeing the smaller achievements.

Part of the problem is that seeing those small steps requires a level of optimism and good spirits that can be really difficult to achieve on a day to day basis -- at least when it comes to looking at yourself. With my son, I have no problem keeping up that optimism and good spirits -- he gets so excited himself about the small achievements himself that it's impossible not to be infected by his smiles.

Why is it so much easier to revel in the tiny achievements Imp makes, but not at my own? Part of it is frankly, he's 11 months old, and I'm 32 with a PhD and a career in mind. We're at slightly different stages developmentally. I suppose too, as we get older, bigger steps are often required to get to a goal. But part of it is self imposed -- you can see it even with how we track ages. With a baby, we count weeks, then months, then as a toddler, half years, then years, and at this age, we even start referring simply to decades (I'm a thirty-something). A decade is a damn long time. There is a clear problem with this long-time-span way of thinking: if we constantly aim for only the big goals, it is so easy to get lost along the way.

It may seem silly to revel in the small things (today I wrote my blog -- good job, Maggie! What a big girl you are!) but how silly is it instead to only ever focus on humongous, hard to achieve goals? If the only time I ever rewarded my son with praise was at the big things -- crawling, sitting up, walking -- he might never discover that those incremental steps he makes are important. So I cheer each step, even if it comes immediately afterwards with a fall. Now just to do the same for myself.

Balance

The other day, Imp took a step. Okay, maybe it was more of a lift-a-foot-up-and-fall, but I think it counted. He stood, unassisted, for at least 20 seconds, and then he leaned, stepped once, and tried to step again until he fell, smiling, into my lap. Of course, we immediately got out the camera and tried to record it, but repeats are not yet in order. He is so close -- we are so soon to be screwed.

It's funny though, we've been waiting for him to take the first solo steps for a while. Imp was an early crawler, an early stander-with-support, and an early cruiser, but then he was content. He could get where he wanted to go, and didn't really seem motivated to walk. He never has really been that into the thing where you hold the kids hands and they walk with you. He prefers to lift his legs up and hang like a little monkey. Of course, friends of mine with one 2.5 year old and one 7 month old are ecstatic that they're second child isn't crawling yet, and find it amusing that we are so excited about Imp walking -- I have a feeling the handful we already have with Imp is just going to get more... handfully.

In the meanwhile, I have started TAing (Teaching Assistant) and taking voice lessons again. The TA thing is totally voluntary -- as a postdoc, I don't have to do any teaching, but my TA experience in grad school was so minimal that I felt I needed something more. So I talked to one of the teaching-only faculty here, and she suggested I could TA for her. I'm learning tons, but man is it taking up a lot of time. I have to be even more careful planning my week to make sure I don't slack in my research. And then I added voice lessons -- not even weekly -- but still, even more time. However, TAing and the voice lessons are something I look forward to so much right now. They are a good portion of what is keeping me going, as my research has been a good portion searching and not so much finding. After my first voice lesson, I came back to the lab and one of my colleagues looked at me and said "Maggie, you look so... happy!" The TAing is essential to my career development. The lessons are one of the few things I am doing totally for me. So, makes life more hectic, but somewhat necessary things.

So as Imp tries to figure out the necessary muscle movements for walking, and I try to figure out how much I can squeeze into my schedule and not go nuts, both Imp and I are figuring out a very important skill -- balance. Him on his feet, me with my time. It strikes me that life is often about balance, from the day we first try to lift our heads up on our shoulders, we are trying to learn new ways to balance. I have tried to balance busy schedules many times -- sometimes with disastrous results -- but each time is a new learning experience. A lot of what I'm balancing now is essential to either my career, my well-being, and my capacity as a mother. But while falling for Imp is a learning experience, for me it might not be such a good idea. We'll see how this semester goes...