Expectations

By Joanna of Keeping Feet

I have all sorts of expectations of myself.

I expect to be able to “hold my own” at work, and be as productive as anyone else, and know as much about the project as anyone on the team. I expect to be able to get things done well and quickly, and keep the customer happy.

I expect to be able to keep a reasonably clean house- not spotless, but not cluttered. I expect to be able to keep up with dishes and laundry for just the two of us, because, on the scale of things, it’s not that much, right? I expect to sweep at least once a week, to stave off the constant bombardment of pet hair. I expect to be able to get at least 4 or 5 dinners made a week, and maybe even entertain a guest.

I expect to pitch in to mow our yard once every week or two, and I want to take pride in the state of our flower beds, not letting them or the lawn get too overgrown. I expect to be able to keep up with the harvest in the vegetable garden and on the berry bushes, so nothing goes to waste, and I can put food away for the rest of the year. I expect the garden to be under control- not nearly weed-free, but the weeds shouldn’t overtake any of the plants I planted on purpose!

I expect to be able to keep up with commitments outside of home & work- the very few that I have. The commitments only take maybe 4 hours a week, so it’s not like I don’t have time.

These expectations aren’t ambitious by any means. Really, they’re just “maintenance”. In a typical week, I can handle them, no problem, and still have time for fun stuff & extra projects. But, lately, I haven’t even met my basic expectations. Over the past month & a half or so, I’ve not felt up to it. I’ve been more tired than I have been in my life, and I keep letting these things slide- all of them.

Am I expecting too much?
No, I’m expecting… a baby!

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