I’m changing the way I blog my 365 project. It feels so boring to slap up 7 photos here each week- so instead, I’m going to post them every day on my instagram, and if you want to follow along you can check them out there. I’ll also be using a new hashtag for it- #365snyder- to group them all together. Of course, you can just follow me on instagram to see them in your feed anyway! I’m also working on a new hashtag for everyone to participate in, so we can all celebrate our everyday magic, as we embrace those #momreality moments in a daily setting. Got any ideas or inspiration for me? I might just have a little prize for anyone who helps me find that perfect (and currently unused) hashtag!
I’m just going to feature one each week, and the story behind it.
This week’s moment is all about perspective.
You see, I had a business Skype call to make. It was carefully scheduled to take place right before the kids got out of school, so I had a glimmer of hope that I’d be able to pay attention to it. I’m not so great at dividing my attention, especially when it comes to calls.
I set my youngest up with Netflix, counting on Equestria Girls to captivate her for the 30 mins-1 hour I might need. On any other day, she will flat out ignore me in favor of her “ponies with feet” on the TV.
But as we all know, once Mom is on the phone, a silent siren goes off that only children can hear. She abandoned the TV to jockey for my attention.
I was absorbed in conversation, so at first I didn’t notice the little feet tiptoeing into the room. Suddenly, I felt little hands on my arms, as she slowly stuck her face in front of mine to see what was going on with my phone. She slipped into my lap, only her forehead and eyes visible on the screen as she tried to see who I was Skyping. “Hello!” she called out cheerfully to the “lady inside Mommy’s phone.”
I could no longer see my phone or what was happening on the other side, but I heard laughter coming from the speakers. I breathed a sigh of relief that I was at least talking to another Mom so there should be some understanding of the situation. It won’t be like the last time I attempted a headshot in my home, where a non-parent sat awkwardly while she hid behind me, blowing raspberries loudly and shrieking, “Did Mommy fart?” in a misguided attempt to help the young man smile as I photographed him. Did I mention awkward?
At this point, she was sprawled out on the dining room table, directly in front of my face. She turned on the charm, waving and trying to hold a conversation with this woman she has never met. I eventually shooed her away, but she came right back, holding her hand out to cover my face on the screen. She made silly faces, held out her fingers to pretend to squish my head on the screen, tried to take my phone all together.
I felt the frustration begin to bubble under my skin. Seriously, can’t I just have a simple uninterrupted phone call?
Instead of lashing out, however, I started to laugh. It was equal parts frustration and hilarious, so I made the choice for humor.
She’s 4, and she wants my attention. How many more years do I have left? How long before she grows out of this stage, where I am her favorite person, her best friend, the first one she wants in the morning and the last one she sees at night?
I can’t always take a deep breath and choose something other than irritation- I know that’s not realistic. But sometimes I can. Sometimes I’m able to step outside myself, take a breath, and choose another emotional path. After all, life is how you choose to see it. It’s all about perspective.
Here’s the rest of the week- full stories are on instagram.