At the end of the day, as a mother, housewife, home schooler, soccer coach, therapist for a special needs five year old, and shoulder for my friends – all I really want is a little time to take care of what matters to me outside of my family.
oh, you didn’t know I was allowed to care about anything more than my kid? my husband? my home?
yeah, some days it feels like no one else knows it either. sometimes not even me.
Recently a family member announced he was flying up for the day. How nice, I guess. Except he picked Wednesday to fly in. Wednesday, the one day a week I get to escape for 3 hours to be the writer me, to recharge my inner self, most of the time anyway, assuming my sitter shows up and I don’t take my son to write in with me. But I digress.
I take care of everyone in my life, all day every day. And I do a damn good job. My house is clean, I cook gourmet meals most nights of the week, my kid has learned more in two months with me than he did in four months at school, he has play dates 3-5 times a week. Have six kids over all afternoon? Sure, this mom will always say yes.
I yoga daily, walk the dogs, and shower at least 5 times a week. (if you’re thinking ick, trust me I am a paragon of cleanliness in the home school world) I won’t embarrass us all by going on.
So on the heels of this loss of a Wednesday, a loss of three hours of reestablishing my identity as a human being, I had to sign my son up for co-op classes for next year. There were really, really good classes on Friday morning. But Friday morning there is a write-in. One that I do not make currently because I take my son to the co-op for classes. What a choice to make: another 2 hour window of feeding my soul each week or my son’s education? I agonized for weeks about this. Plus the schedule wasn’t final for a while and I kept hoping some of those great Friday classes might migrate to Monday or later to Friday afternoon. It didn’t happen.
It was simple for my amazingly supportive husband. “He’s in first grade, go to the write in.” I nodded my agreement but still I heard that little voice that says, to be a good mother you must give up everything for your child. That voice is right, when your child is a newborn, through say age two. Most moms have a second child which forces them to separate a little, to split their time and devotion. For others elementary school comes along and enforces separation. I have neither. So I must work a little harder at it.
I know there’s precious little humor in this post and even less about actually writing but today I feel like there must be more of you out there who struggle to balance that drive to write (or whatever your dream is) with the drive to care for those around you. You are not alone. My son will not go to co-op on Friday this upcoming year. If that makes me less of a mom, then I embrace that it makes me more of a human.