Momming

Borrowed Time

When our third baby boy was around six weeks, I had a lovely Ashley-day planned. This is something I wouldn’t have dreamt of doing with the first two in their first few months. But, this being our third time around, we realized how important me-time was, especially in those early weeks.

[Yes, I say ‘we’ for a reason, but that’s a full topic for another day… ]

Anyways, it was a Thursday which typically means Grandma-Day for the older two. They were excited for some normalcy from their previous routine, and probably for some time away from me (and I was ECSTATIC for similar reasons). I had arranged for their new baby brother to join them, too, while I hopefully accomplished impossible feats and recharged my batteries. At the same time, I had arranged for our future in-home nanny to come help me with some deep cleaning of our home. She was new to our lives and we had just begun our working-relationship. She would eventually nanny our boys a few days a week when I returned to work AND help me with housekeeping tasks so I wouldn’t feel so under-water when I moved back into my full-time working-mom role. A win-win-win, right?

So back to this (al)most-perfect-me-time-day… Grandma was due to arrive about 9:30 a.m. and my new-best-friend said she would arrive around 10:00. I’d get everyone off then move on to my to-do lists I had prepared and then I could finally find some short-lived solace. 

Do you want to start laughing, now? Do you think any of my day went as planned? Everyone had their own agendas and I was left waiting and wondering and staving off whining little boys who also wanted to leave the house. I think my saviors didn’t show up close to noon.  By that point, I was restless and probably fuming beneath my skin.  

It’s tough being in those newborn months. You feel over-utilized and under appreciated. Many of us are beyond sleep deprivation and overly caffeinated. For me, cleaning the bathrooms or unloading the dishwasher or folding and putting away all of the clean laundry seemed impossible given my new responsibility, but I yearned to focus solely on those simple tasks and feel ‘the end’ of something. To accomplish ANYTHING. Because the repetition of it all felt so futile. Even though a healthy, happy, breathing baby IS the biggest accomplishment, when you’re in the midst of newborn care 24/7 it sure doesn’t feel that way.

I have to believe all new moms – and especially working-moms with extremely limited free time – feel this way at some point (or maybe most of the time). Living that “HELP ME PLEASE” lifestyle but never actually verbalizing my needs should be an art that I’ve perfected. Shouldn’t everyone just know what I’m thinking, feeling, and hoping for?

I can continue with countless scenarios like the unsuccessful me-day, and I’m willing to bet you can too.  It’s not about these two beautiful women in my life or what time they eventually arrived and how great they were to offer to help me and our family.  I just simply have such a hard time articulating that I need help and this brings on disappointment, anger, adn resentment. I am sure I acted like it was all no big deal when I organized the day. And, the result was the reaping of my hope-and-pray assumptions.

By giving this example, I just want to point out that it is HARD WORK scheduling time to care for yourself in these early years. And, waiting on everyone else is common-place, but not easy for someone as independent as me. Being patient and especially being flexible are learned-skills. NO ONE told me how all of the time I would want to spend doing things on my agenda would feel so ‘borrowed’ once I became a mom…

Now that I’m back to work, I sometimes feel like I have to pay for the me-time I get:  physically, emotionally, and monetarily. As an example, I’ve picked up groceries on my way to work and stowed them in refrigerators at the office (sorry to my coworkers!). Over lunch hours, I’ve ran errands for T-Ball snack assembly, picked one of our boys from school, or returned clothes that didn’t fit to Kohl’s because these children grow like weeds. I’m planning for evening “fun” on Tuesdays while their daddy is playing a round of golf with coworkers and friends or entertaining vendors over a dinner at Mancy’s Steakhouse.  I’m doing loads of laundry from peed-on sheets and spit-up covered bibs.  If I want to fit a work-out in, I’m paying extra for childcare. If a work-project runs my 12-hour work day over, I’m rushing breathlessly to Grandma’s house because I feel so bad about being late. 

I’m up before the sun to chug a cup of coffee while I fold the laundry before I hop in the shower, and I’m down way past sun-set because I use every-single-minute-I-have to get it all done. Nothing is perfectly completed, but I can honestly say I am thankful each time a task is DONE. If my before-kiddos-self could see me now!!

Consequently, I eat way too many desserts at the end of these long days and maybe have one drink too many on Friday nights when I’ve made it through another week. I’m putting off the pile of paperwork and losing my birth certificate because I can’t keep track of my own things when I’m tracking everyone else’s. I’ve purchased way too many tubes of toothpaste because my head is swarming with every to-do.  I’m way past the point of being overwhelmed. 

You’re going to laugh, too, but sometimes I get comments like, “You seem like such a laid back mom.” I consider this a huge compliment considering my internal turmoil, and I know my husband would belly-laugh if he was standing by me while I took this misdirected praise. 

The truth is, my broken-down-self is learning how to let go and be o.k. with good-enough. I’m figuring out how to accomplish the basics and request time for me, again. I deserve to allow myself to feel unashamed in needing time for me and it’s so important to LET GO of the little things. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t organize EVERYTHING, although having three children and a husband has helped me become quite good at it.

At the end of weary weeks when I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything, my husband always asks me, “Did we go naked any day this week? Then, it all worked out just fine.”

It’s inevitable that we’ll reach a new normal after we’ve brought home baby #1, #2, #3…. Life won’t always be as chaotic and unplanned as it feels. Time will feel less borrowed and more like it was always meant to, eventually.  And allowing myself to dance with the various scenarios life throws, accepting the changes we’re dealt, and working on going-with-the-flow will eventually lead me to a much more seasoned, fulfilled version of myself as we inevitably reach our new normal. In fact, relaxing into the current normal will help me reach the new (maybe better normal)  much faster than resisting it.

epilogue:     I originally wrote this early in 2020. It’s been a tough one to share because ultimately I don’t ever want the folks who’ve helped me ‘escape’ motherhood from time-to-time to feel like I am ungrateful for all of their help. That’s the exact opposite of why I wrote this. 

In all actuality, without our nanny(ies) and my mother-in-law, there is no way I would’ve remained sane in the last 8 years of motherhood-ing. And that is a FACT. I am indebted to all those who have helped care for my babies as closely as I would, and maybe even at times better than me.

I only wrote these words to express how challenging it is to ever get to do what you want to do once you choose to become a mom. By becoming a mom, you have forsaken any time ever spent simply on you. It is the hardest, most brutiful of choices. I wanted to normalize these feelings and join in solidarity with other moms who feel so guilty leaving their babies for work, for fun, for whatever reason. But the reality is, we NEED to leave our babies if only to come back to them and get all those hugs and kisses and happy feelings of returning HOME.