Last week was a very important week for two reasons: my son started pre-kindergarten and yours truly started working–outside of the home–once again. From the moment my son was born, all I wanted was to be with him and for him. My husband and I decided early on that he would be our only offspring, so I didn’t want to miss anything, not a smile, not a cry, not a burp!
Staying at home, was the toughest job I have ever had. There are no bosses, no co-workers, and no clear job description. I was in charge of everything, and my performance was assessed, every day, by the toughest examiner: myself.
The hardest part of being at home–and you might relate to this–was that little voice inside my head, all the time, telling me: “You can do better than that!” if there was a crumb on the floor or the smallest thing out of place. This is the time in my life when my OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) got on steroids. Nevertheless, I enjoyed every minute of my mommy-baby time, and I learned the basics of a vital skill that hardly ever, is posted in a resume: Patience.
A famous quote from Michelangelo reads, “Genius is eternal patience.” I saw this online and started thinking about the simplicity, yet the difficulty of this idea, at least for me. I always have thought that reaching the genius level at anything, requires constant practice or performing, in other words, improving.
However, the greatness of patience is that in doing nothing, the right moment to do something, reveals itself. In this sense, patience has its roots in the verb, “waiting,” and women sure know a lot about that!
The moment I got pregnant, this verb acquired a positive new meaning. I spent 39 long weeks waiting to meet the second love of my life. I waited 14 months to see my baby boy walk for the first time, and I waited four years and five months to see my little man kick his first goal at soccer practice last Monday.
I know that the patience I learned these past years will help me now that I am back at work in the insurance industry. Although I am not writing, my first passion, my job is part of the process of learning patience. Insurance is so boring for me; I’d rather watch paint dry than read coverage forms and schedules. Nonetheless, I married a business junkie and I co-own an agency that represents the future of our family. Therefore, I have to support this venture in every way I can to make it more successful.
My present problem is that I have to learn hundreds of tedious procedures and wait for others’ instructions. The hardest thing to do, for hyper, “doer” people like me, is to look and listen without taking any action.
If this were football, it would be like my husband is the quarterback, our employees are the team players, and I am the water boy, a vital asset for the rest of the team, but boring for a rookie who is dying to jump and kick some ass!
This past week, I slowed down and thought of our business like a little baby who needs to grow, to become healthy and strong. I’ll be patient and make sure it learns to walk before it can run, and I will stay awake no matter if the paperwork sounds like a lullaby. I will multi-task and take care of the marketing and PR–my original and enjoyable job–and keep an eye of every detail that represents a threat to the health of our organization.
Now, the real challenge of my new job, is that I have to work with my husband who acts like a three-year-old when he wants something done. If you ask him to be patient, his answer is–with the Cuban accent of Tony Montana in Scarface— “Patience? I don’t need no stinkin patience!“
Thanks for reading and sharing.