If Time Management Were Playdough…
I hate time management. At just what point did we humans decide we could “manage” time anyway?
When the clocks are changed twice a year (thoroughly annoying), my clock stays the same — it’ll correct itself in a few months — and I’m aware of the temporary displacement of the hour set by man.
But what gets me the most, other than the total absurdity at trying to control the uncontrollable, is the inability to set my day — as the many gurus proclaim must be done.
I understand the process, and I’ve created many a Gannt chart for projects. Yes, they help. But in home life, when you’re the only one doing anything, the best way I can think to describe time management is like trying to keep all the colours from a set of playdough separate.
Ultimately, they always appear to have formed a ubiquitous brown blob by the end of each day.
🤩 Making my single parent life more productive
Firstly — a little backstory. I have two teenage girls, and my youngest has Asperger’s. I love them endlessly, and they’re perfect. But it is also true that this requires a little more work (and patience) — some days more than others.
And so, after following the expert’s advice to,
“draw up a list of everything I do each day,”
I weep in the corner for a minute before pulling myself together and attempting to better organise my life.
I set time limits for tasks, batched tasks, and colour-coded my new, productive work week.
Did it work?
Well — not really.
⏱ The new time management routine
So, to layer in productivity to the hour round school run, I attempt my new practice of listening to audiobooks in the car on the way home.
Listening to them on the way to school isn’t an option, as my daughter doesn’t like loud sounds and would never settle for talking about a “boring” subject before she starts her day of perceived torture.
So I try this new productivity habit on the way home instead.
Sometimes it’s…nice — if you can concentrate on the information, that is.
I generally have a hard time focussing on the positive mindset steps as I’m wailing and let out the odd cathartic scream, as I’m already 30 minutes behind schedule, and I have a deadline waiting for me when I get home.
You see, schedules are good, but some variables are simply out of our control. I cannot make my daughter want to go to school. And if she’s having a bad day, the thoroughly efficient schedule takes its first knock. Getting dressed takes 30 minutes. You cannot rush this, as this is a huge backwards step and will result in unnecessary tensions that will not help my daughter get to school or through her school day.
So I breathe slowly. Wait. Gentle reminders. Wait. Breathe.
Okay — getting dressed accomplished. Now I can hurry through the motions of everything else to get us out the door.
And that process led me to school late. Then the teaching assistants aren’t available to answer the phones to collect my daughter, and we wait whilst I make ten repeat phone calls, trying to get her into school.
And now I’m in the car, driving home. And I’m screaming — the release of built-up stress from the fact that it’s just taken me three hours to get to this point and losing time to complete my work.
Driving home is also extra fun in a town that can be described as (in the words of a fantastic YouTuber my daughter watches) “where Tories go to die”. Enter the upside-down, where 30 is the new 60, and 15 is the new 30. But don’t overtake or speed. No, no. That would make you a bad driver.
☕ What comes after a productive morning?
So, all the advice says,
“know when you’re at your best and do your work then.”
I can happily say I know this. I work best between the hours of 7 a.m. and 11 a.m. It’s a slow, downhill decline from that point on. I still work in those hours — I have to. But my golden hours are then.
So — I get home, and it’s nearing 10 a.m. My magnificent peak productivity period is drawing to a close, and I feel like I need an expresso and a lobotomy.
Time to start work!
💻 Client deadlines
I spend my time completing client work, meeting deadlines and then moving on to edits. I love working from home as it gives me the chance to earn an income whilst looking after my children. I can’t afford a nanny for lifts, and my daughter does not adapt to strangers very well.
This gives me 4.5 hours to work, or 4 hours if I want the luxury of eating before 4 p.m.
My mum also tells me I should try and walk each day, as it’s good for my mental health. This, however, drops my work time to 3.5 hours if I want to protect my mental health and not starve on the same day.
I do like to walk, and it does clear my head. But upon return from my walk, the stress begins to build up as I know that I have twice as much work to do each day as my time allows for (freelance writing is not known to be the most lucrative field — but I’m doing far better than last year).
Whilst finishing off another client brief, I hear the recognisable sound of my alarm. My signal of 5 minutes and counting to get my ass in the car to pick my daughter up.
I still have work to finish.
💪 Wholly Efficient Afternoons
It would be nice to get home and pick up where I left off. But there’s food to make, and I sit with my daughter for a while. If it’s been a good day for her, I can get back to work sooner; if not — it will be a late night.
I may take my laptop out of the office and complete my work whilst trying to multitask serving people, having a conversation and hearing Brooklyn 99 run for the millionth time in the background.
I know what I should do, but I can’t dedicate my attention to only one thing — they all need doing, need doing now, and there’s only me.
⚖ Time management wins and losses
Sure, it’s nice to know when you’re at your most efficient. But then again — it crushes your soul as you see those hours slip out of your grasp as you clamber to meet everyone else’s demands. But you’ve got a blueprint to go off, for sure.
On good days — when both my daughters are in school, I have a cool 3.5 to 4.5 hours, depending on the comfort level I opt into for the day. These are my “golden hours”. I need these for my sanity. If someone tries to impose on this time of mine — watch me turn like a rabid dog with a bone. Sorry.
Everything that happens outside of these hours is brown playdough. I just can’t separate it.
Actually, that’s a lie. I can stay up through the middle of the night or wake at 4 a.m. and work then. And I have to do this sometimes to get by. But it’s not sustainable. Especially not when I run three people’s lives and have to drive said three people around each day — not a good idea.
I love when I have those hours in the day — but they’re also not reliable. So when I schedule to work all week, and one or two days fall through, I have to find that time whilst juggling other tasks — brown playdough.
Final thoughts
Working from home is fantastic, and it means I can keep my head above the financial suicide line whilst being an adequate parent. One day, maybe I’ll live the dream and make a full-time income on part-time hours. But until then, I’ll continue to make dreams out of playdough. Some will resemble the small fluffy animals and flowers they were envisioned to be, whilst others will look a little — well — a little like a turd.
Disclaimer: This article is written in jest at the feeble attempts to fit any life into the ones of peak productivity touted by gurus. Ultimately, you can only do what you can do. Don’t break yourself, as then you won’t be doing anything. Most importantly, if you’re struggling, please ask for help.
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