Adjusting Expectations

I think what’s been sinking in the last few days is that expectation really is everything. I mean, I know this—disappointment is a function of unmet expectations—but knowing it and experiencing it are two different things. Over the past few weeks it’s come to light that I need to adjust my expectations, and the result is feeling freed to be grateful, to enjoy where I am, to basically made headway in dying to bad attitudes.

I’ve adjusted my expectations for what I expect from Dave: I don’t expect him to get back by a certain time from work. I know I will take care of the kids alone much more than he will. I will be involved in their schooling and lessons much more than him. I see that God created me to desire being home with the kids, that God gifted me with a flexible job (what kind of surgeon can work two half-days a week?), that God gave me a gift for teaching and creative arts. I see that Dave carries a lot of the responsibility of leading our family in the bigger picture, of taking care of the finances, of growing his career so he will have good job options. I can see and know all of this with joyful acceptance and not resentment, which makes a big difference.

And I adjust my expectations for the kids: I try to approach my agendas and time-tables for the day with considerable flexibility. I expect them to need some of my undistracted attention each day.

I adjust my expectations for myself: I can’t expect myself to function without eating or drinking, so I make more of an effort to actually cook and eat (definitely lost too much weight after this last pregnancy). Amazing how much that helps. I expect myself to need breaks and don’t feel guilty asking for them. I try to connect weekly with at least one friend.

All to say, when I’ve adjusted my expectations, I’m not as clouded by frustration. I can see and hear God more: I experience greater thankfulness and delight. I laugh a lot more. I can be present a lot more. It’s not thinking less of my circumstances or of people: it’s just thinking more appropriately about them in a way that frees me to think more for them, instead of being tangled up in my own grumpiness.