Time for Mom

One of the hardest things for me when I first became a stay at home mom was figuring out what my “job” was.  I had (like most people) spent my entire life either in school or working.  All of a sudden, I had endless hours on my hands and no idea how I was supposed to spend them.

My oldest daughter was a great sleeper as a baby.  She slept a lot.  On average, she would wake up around 9:00, take a one hour and then a three hour nap during the day, and then go to bed around 7:00.  Needless, to say, I had a lot of unstructured time on my hands.

I was pretty much an insecure mess after she was born.  I adored my new title of mom, but I no longer was certain of my place in the world.  Up until four days before she was born, I was working multiple jobs.  I taught three or four classes, I tutored, and I worked in a writing lab.  I was always on the go from one place to another, and I was used to being the one in charge.  People came to me for help, and I helped them.  That is how I understood who I was.  It gave me confidence, and for better or worse, it defined my identity.

When I turned all that down for yoga pants and cheerios, I felt like I no longer existed.  I would read countless stories online, and (like I’m all to apt to do,) I read all of the criticisms that moms launch against each other.  At the time, the ones I was most susceptible to were the ones criticizing stay at home moms as being lazy women who sit on their butts all day and watch television.  Because I was still in the business of trying to please everyone, I vowed I would not do that.  And so I swore off television.  And along with it, I swore off anything that could possibly be construed as being for me.  I was going to spend my hours productively.  That meant that when my daughter was awake, I would play with, feed, and take care of her, and when she was asleep, I would do something else productive — whether that was cleaning or creating a craft for her or cooking.  I WAS going to be productive; I WAS going to prove the criticizers wrong.

Flash forward four years and I hear that old question in my head, “How’s that going for you?” and my answer is a very loud, very adamant, not very well!  All of a sudden, I lost all gumption.  I couldn’t get myself to do much of anything.  I always felt tired and spent.  I literally didn’t have anything left to give.

And then someone recommended that I take a week of indulgence.  She recommended that I do what needs to be done (don’t worry – no child neglecting here,) but when things are under control and the girls are asleep or engaged in other activities, that I simply do what would make me happy.

The idea kind of made me laugh.  How could I spend an entire week just doing anything that came to mind?  Wouldn’t the world fall apart?  And that last question made the decision for me because it felt like everything had already fallen apart.  I realized I didn’t have much to lose.  And it was only a week.  No permanent damage would be done.

And so I did.  For the most part, when I had a free moment (which still doesn’t happen all that often,) I just did what I wanted to.  I followed my bliss.

The hardest part for me was the guilt.  At first, I felt guilty with every “selfish” decision that I made.  Surely everyone would be better off if I paid more attention to them and less to myself.

And then a strange thing happened.  I started to realize that people were better off when I took some time for myself because I was happier.  I had been living with a feeling of dread in my gut for weeks now.  Odds are, that feeling is largely chemical and hormonal in nature, but it wasn’t all caused by that because it was greatly diminished during my week of selfish indulgence.

All of a sudden, I had patience again.  When inconveniences arose that made me go an hour out of my way for what was supposed to be a twenty minute trip, I saw it as an adventure and laughed it off.  When we had free time, I would take my kids outside and let them get messy because the thought of clean up wasn’t overwhelming to me.

It hasn’t been a perfect week as such things don’t really exist, but I learned that in order to give to others, you really do need to give to yourself first.  When you give to yourself, you magnify the gift.  It is no longer just ten minutes to relax in the shower.  That ten minutes then refreshes you so that you can give ten times that to those you love.

It’s hard to take care of yourself when you have little kids.  Their needs are so great, and you love them so much that you want to give them every ounce of yourself.  Add to that the desire that most moms (and dads) have to be the best parent they can be, and it’s easy to see how people can get so lost caring for others.

My week of indulgence is over, and I’m not quite sure where exactly to go from here.  But the one thing that I definitely learned is the need to get rid of the guilt.  Good decisions are important as are patience and selflessness and sometimes selfishness.  But guilt really doesn’t serve much purpose if it is misplaced.

And I also learned that perceiving my role as a “job” was causing a lot of the trouble.  When you have a job, you are either on the clock or off.  When you are a parent, you are always “on,” and so if you don’t carve out moments for yourself, they won’t exist.  I really don’t know what tomorrow will look like, but I guess that’s what I figure out from here.  And as with everything, it will probably just take time, patience, and an open mind.

What do you do to make time for yourself?  Do you find you are able to give much more when you first take care of your own needs?  If you are a stay at home mom, how do you perceive your role?

Here are some pictures from our fun time outside.  It was the Goose’s first painting adventure.  I have much more paint on me than our patio (the canvas) does.  By the way, Instagram really needs to come up with some new filters.  These ones are getting really old!