idBlog
Thursday, June 08, 2006
The Expectation of Speed
Today was very difficult for me. I can trace most of my frustration to one domino-toppling source: network latency.
I worked from home today because the nature of the work I had to do mainly required me to just sit and read - reviewing many pages of technical documents to form some impressions and document some analytical and useful questions. However, to begin reading these documents required me to access them on the company network via my VPN connection. Due to an internet and VPN connection that was spotty at best, routine application tasks like checking e-mail and the necessary downloading I had to do took hours instead of minutes. This lack of expediency seriously threw off my usual pace of work and had a snowballing effect on my level of frustration throughout the day. I hardly got anything done - at least nowhere near what I set out expecting to be able to accomplish. Because I had this expectation of being able to do so much in so little time, I was groaning with impatience and stress all day.
And my wife kept walking around wearing my boxer briefs, which was really distracting.
Then, without any sense of accomplishment to buoy my spirits, my family dinnertime and bedtime obligations had to be met. Before I say anything else, I must point out: I love my kids and I love being with my wife and family at home. I just hate the feeling of constant struggle and "fire fighting" tactics that I am forced to employ to take care of the kids and get anything done when they are involved. I realize now just how much I relish the feeling of control I have when I am working on a computer and a network that works. At work, I am the epitome of optimized velocity: I issue a series of commands, I get the desired results, and I move on to tackle additional tasks - sometimes two or three in parallel - efficiently and easily. Contrast this with attempting to manage a 2-year-old through a simple task:
Me: "Alright, time for a potty break!"
2yo: "No!"
Me: "Come on sweetie, you don't want to have an accident do you?"
2yo: "Yes, I do want to have an accident."
Me: "OK, let's go. I don't want to argue with you."
2yo: "No! I'm going to FIGHT with you... hee hee hee!"
Me: <clenching my teeth in restraint> "You're not being a good listener. I'm going to give you to the count of three to start walking to the potty. If you don't go, you're going to have to sit in time-out.
2yo: "No!"
Me: "Onnnnne... twooooooo... three! Alright, that's it - you're going to time-out."
2yo: "No! I don't want to go in time-out. I'll go to the potty."
Me: "OK, let's go then." <she starts to walk toward the stairs that lead to the bathroom, then she flings herself onto the floor and starts rolling around defiantly, laughing all the way>
Me: "You are not being a good listener. I want you to get up and go to the potty right now!"
<she stands up and runs to the other end of the room>
Me: "Don't run away from me! *sigh* Come back here! *long sigh*... OK, I got ya."
<I carry the girl to the potty and put her down in front of the toilet>
2yo: "No, I don't wanna go potty!"
Me: "Stand up on the stool and pull your pants down. It's time to go potty."
2yo: "No, I don't wanna go potty!" <she stands still and stomps on the floor>
Me: "Do you want me to help you?" <I start to reach for her pants' waistband>
2yo: "No, I wanna do it myself!" <she takes her pants and underwear all the way off and sits on the potty>
Me: "Good job. Tell me when you're all done."
<I hear some peeing. Then 10 seconds goes by. Then 30 more seconds and no signs of any more potty activity.>
Me: "Are you all done?"
2yo: "Nope."
<30 more seconds go by - she's shifting and pivoting in place on the toilet seat, looking at and naming everything in sight in the bathroom, asking several 'what's that for?' questions about each identified object, singing, etc.>
Me: "Are you all done now?"
2yo: "No."
<10 more seconds of singing...>
Me: "Are you all done?"
2yo: "Yes."
Me: "OK, now wipe, and put it in the toilet, then flush."
2yo: "Yeah, we have to put the paper in the potty." <flush> "All done."
Me: "Good job, now let's get your clothes back on."
2yo: "Yeah. Daddy, can I have a potty treat for going to the potty?"
Me: *sigh* "Sure sweetie. Let's go."
2yo: "GIVE ME A PIGGIE BACK RIDE TO THE KITCHEN!"
Clearly, it is my expectations that are causing my frustration and stress. But these expectations are difficult to surrender, and I thoroughly enjoy the feeling of speed and efficiency. If I were able to live without such pressing expectations, I could "go with the flow" and not worry about whether a child took 30 minutes to use the potty or just ended up peeing on the floor. The 2-year-old certainly seems to savor every moment of her life this way - even if it means going from joyous smiles to broken-hearted crying in 3 seconds flat. Maybe I need a piggie-back ride...
I need to go find my wife in those short shorts. I have no expectations; just the sincere hope of some adult quality time.
I worked from home today because the nature of the work I had to do mainly required me to just sit and read - reviewing many pages of technical documents to form some impressions and document some analytical and useful questions. However, to begin reading these documents required me to access them on the company network via my VPN connection. Due to an internet and VPN connection that was spotty at best, routine application tasks like checking e-mail and the necessary downloading I had to do took hours instead of minutes. This lack of expediency seriously threw off my usual pace of work and had a snowballing effect on my level of frustration throughout the day. I hardly got anything done - at least nowhere near what I set out expecting to be able to accomplish. Because I had this expectation of being able to do so much in so little time, I was groaning with impatience and stress all day.
And my wife kept walking around wearing my boxer briefs, which was really distracting.
Then, without any sense of accomplishment to buoy my spirits, my family dinnertime and bedtime obligations had to be met. Before I say anything else, I must point out: I love my kids and I love being with my wife and family at home. I just hate the feeling of constant struggle and "fire fighting" tactics that I am forced to employ to take care of the kids and get anything done when they are involved. I realize now just how much I relish the feeling of control I have when I am working on a computer and a network that works. At work, I am the epitome of optimized velocity: I issue a series of commands, I get the desired results, and I move on to tackle additional tasks - sometimes two or three in parallel - efficiently and easily. Contrast this with attempting to manage a 2-year-old through a simple task:
Me: "Alright, time for a potty break!"
2yo: "No!"
Me: "Come on sweetie, you don't want to have an accident do you?"
2yo: "Yes, I do want to have an accident."
Me: "OK, let's go. I don't want to argue with you."
2yo: "No! I'm going to FIGHT with you... hee hee hee!"
Me: <clenching my teeth in restraint> "You're not being a good listener. I'm going to give you to the count of three to start walking to the potty. If you don't go, you're going to have to sit in time-out.
2yo: "No!"
Me: "Onnnnne... twooooooo... three! Alright, that's it - you're going to time-out."
2yo: "No! I don't want to go in time-out. I'll go to the potty."
Me: "OK, let's go then." <she starts to walk toward the stairs that lead to the bathroom, then she flings herself onto the floor and starts rolling around defiantly, laughing all the way>
Me: "You are not being a good listener. I want you to get up and go to the potty right now!"
<she stands up and runs to the other end of the room>
Me: "Don't run away from me! *sigh* Come back here! *long sigh*... OK, I got ya."
<I carry the girl to the potty and put her down in front of the toilet>
2yo: "No, I don't wanna go potty!"
Me: "Stand up on the stool and pull your pants down. It's time to go potty."
2yo: "No, I don't wanna go potty!" <she stands still and stomps on the floor>
Me: "Do you want me to help you?" <I start to reach for her pants' waistband>
2yo: "No, I wanna do it myself!" <she takes her pants and underwear all the way off and sits on the potty>
Me: "Good job. Tell me when you're all done."
<I hear some peeing. Then 10 seconds goes by. Then 30 more seconds and no signs of any more potty activity.>
Me: "Are you all done?"
2yo: "Nope."
<30 more seconds go by - she's shifting and pivoting in place on the toilet seat, looking at and naming everything in sight in the bathroom, asking several 'what's that for?' questions about each identified object, singing, etc.>
Me: "Are you all done now?"
2yo: "No."
<10 more seconds of singing...>
Me: "Are you all done?"
2yo: "Yes."
Me: "OK, now wipe, and put it in the toilet, then flush."
2yo: "Yeah, we have to put the paper in the potty." <flush> "All done."
Me: "Good job, now let's get your clothes back on."
2yo: "Yeah. Daddy, can I have a potty treat for going to the potty?"
Me: *sigh* "Sure sweetie. Let's go."
2yo: "GIVE ME A PIGGIE BACK RIDE TO THE KITCHEN!"
Clearly, it is my expectations that are causing my frustration and stress. But these expectations are difficult to surrender, and I thoroughly enjoy the feeling of speed and efficiency. If I were able to live without such pressing expectations, I could "go with the flow" and not worry about whether a child took 30 minutes to use the potty or just ended up peeing on the floor. The 2-year-old certainly seems to savor every moment of her life this way - even if it means going from joyous smiles to broken-hearted crying in 3 seconds flat. Maybe I need a piggie-back ride...
I need to go find my wife in those short shorts. I have no expectations; just the sincere hope of some adult quality time.
Labels: Musing
posted @ 10:27 PM
