I recently read the phrase that being a mother is the toughest job you'll ever love. So true. I've written many times about how unprepared I was for the unexpected challenges that stay-at-home mommyhood entails. While the job is gratifying and I am incredibly lucky to be able to do it, it has got to be one of the most emotionally, not to mention physically, exhausting jobs you can do. Whether your child is acting sullen, hyper or anything in between, Mom must rise to meet his needs. On any given day, you could be called on to diffuse one or many temper tantrums, be puked on, or have your child blow his nose on your sweater. You just never know. OK, it sounds like I'm complaining, but really I just mean to say, it takes a toll.
Ever since I began staying home, I've found myself in an odd position. It's hard for me not to earn money, to fail to contribute to our household in that tangible way. It feels wrong sometimes to buy Mark a gift with money that I haven't actually earned. And while I'm married to one of the best guys of all time, who reminds me all the time that I contribute plenty and that it's silly for me to think of it as "spending his money," the feeling remains. I think that's why it's been hard for me to justify taking time for me.
Last year, after I had faced a couple months of insomnia, I decided to see a counselor. We quickly zeroed in on the fact that anxiety mostly was responsible for my sleeplessness. (I know - surprise, surprise that I'm an anxious person!) One of the things Mary, my counselor, encouraged me to do was take more time for myself. Get a baby-sitter, put the kids in child care for a few hours a week while Mark was at work. I was, to put it mildly, resistant to this idea. How could I justify spending money on child care - it's my full-time job to take care of my kids. Are other stay-home moms bad for taking a couple hours for themselves during the week? my counselor challenged me. Well, of course not, but ... Mary actually assigned me homework: take some time for yourself. I fudged, I did it as minimally as possible. I finished up my counseling sessions in the fall. I still hadn't done so well on my goal of taking more me time.
Slowly, I began to take some steps. I brought Paul and Gus to drop-in care at the Y for an hour a week while I took a class. To my surprise, both have done great with it. Gus, in fact, loves it. I took my mom up on her offer of watching Gus while I went to the grocery store on Wednesdays. It felt good, very good. Then on Friday, for the first time, I brought Gus to drop-in at the Y while Paul was at school and went and did something completely frivolous: I shopped by myself. I practically skipped out of the Y.
I always understood, at least intellectually, why taking a break is good. We've all heard this before: a happy mom is a good mom. Well, it turns out it's true. It was hard for me to be that good mom when I was going around with a near-empty tank all the time. Taking a few hours for me can make a world of difference. For a couple bucks, I brought Gus to the Y for child care. He got to play with other kids. I got two glorious hours of silence and unencumbered wandering around stores. Priceless. Mary would be proud.
