“We were her kids, her comrades, the end of her and the beginning.”
-Cheryl Strayed (of her mother)
When I watched Wild a few weeks ago, this quote sucker punched me, “The end of her and the beginning.” Yep, that hits the nail on the head.
I have been a mother for 4 years now. I am hopelessly in love with my children. That love is real, it’s raw, it’s constant, it’s material…some might even say it’s obsessive. I want them, all of the time. I’m greedy with their affection. I always want to eat them up, smother them with kisses, hold their hands, be near them. Sometimes, it’s even hurtful. I fear for them, worry about their safety, make myself crazy knowing that one day they’ll have to feel pain. Make myself crazy knowing that one day they won’t want me the way they do now. Motherhood. It has consumed me. It fulfills me and makes my heart soar. Some days, it can deplete me, and it makes my heart ache. Yet every day I wake up looking forward to doing it all over again. It is who I am, it is what I identify with. My babies, they began life inside of me, transformed me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. My boobs, stomach, arms, legs, feet, hair, brain and even teeth are forever changed because my body was their home for 9 months. I’ve peed with them on my lap, ingested their spit up and slobber, had their poop smeared on me, and cleaned their blood and vomit. I’ve taught them their first words, kissed their tears away, prayed with them, played with them, yelled at them, asked their forgiveness. They’ve humbled me, shocked me, and frightened me. The intimacy of our relationship is intense.
My love for them is so big that sometimes I don’t know where to fit it and I wouldn’t change that for the world. But even with the abundance of love and happiness in my home, at the end of many days, I feel unsettled, incomplete even. Could it be that in my pursuit of being a good mother, I’ve forgotten about myself? I run mostly on autopilot; taking care of the kids’ needs, dogs’ needs, household needs, husband’s needs, work needs first and then when and if there’s time, my basic needs (at best). As a result, more often than not I feel tired, cranky, and frazzled. I don’t want my children to remember me like this, always in a tizzy. I want them to know that being their mom brings me joy because it truly does. I want to be a whole mom, a woman that likes herself knows herself. Yet, making “me” a priority seems like a radical, even downright selfish thought.
How do I pour myself into motherhood without sacrificing my own sense of self? How do I find balance? This has been the burning question on my mind over the past couple of months. I accept that I will give more time and energy to my children than I will to myself right now and I will cherish this time because it’s all part of the season, which I know I am very blessed to live through. But I also know I do not want to lose ME. When they grow up and leave the nest, I don’t want to be a mere shadow of someone I used to know. It’s important to for me to be Susie. To get dolled up, to spend alone time with my husband, to spend time alone by myself, to read books, to write, to run, to be creative, to talk and laugh with my friends, to be ambitious in my career, to change, to grow, to feel pretty, to be healthy, to nurture other relationships in my life… To identify the blurred line where “mommy” ends and I begin.
This is difficult for me. The idea of finding balance and putting myself first more often sounds great, but how do I walk the walk? How do I bring the idea that mommy doesn’t have to equate martyr into realization? I feel that inevitable “mom guilt” creeping over me even as I write this! I read this on another blog and I think it’s pretty good. I’ve made it my personal mantra lately. ” You cannot give long-term what you don’t have. Love yourself so much that you’re not willing to lose yourself. Because when you lose yourself, everyone loses. Your family needs you. Most of all, you need you.”
Ok, so I’m taking baby steps.
Here are 3 small ways I’ve reconnected with myself lately :
-Scheduled weekly alone time. Whether it’s a pedicure, going to the grocery store kid-free (because I actually enjoy grocery shopping when I’m alone), or time with my girlfriends, I’m trying to get out of the house for an hour or so a week (at least) to do something I enjoy.
-Rekindled a dormant passion. For me, writing is my creative force. I try to write every day, even if it’s just a jot.
-Making me time part of my day. The 9:00-10: 00 pm hour is all mine. Kids are in bed, nightly chores are complete. During this time I do whatever I feel like doing, not things I have to do. Watch TV with the husband, read, work on my blog, text friends, talk to my mom on the phone, stare at FB, paint my nails, go to sleep early…whatever floats my boat! I gave myself permission for this time to be my free time. I don’t clean-up toys, I don’t pay bills, I don’t fold clothes. If that stuff didn’t get done, I don’t fret about it, I just leave it for tomorrow. This has become a daily ritual over the past month that I so look forward to.
