I’m sitting on my bed with my computer on my lap and my game face on. It is 9:00am on Saturday and I will read my entire Facebook newsfeed before I have to take my daughter to piano lessons at 10am.
This may not be the greatest objective ever set, but as a 37 year old full-time working mom, Facebook is about as close as I come to a real social life. You may laugh, but I just saw you Like my status so I know you are on there too.
My husband has set off for his daily “conversation with the governor” and my kids are upstairs playing nicely in their bedrooms. I have fed, clothed, washed, dried and wiped everyone’s butts and am settled in for a well-deserved bit of me time.
When my husband finally ends his bathroom session and comes into the bedroom 20 minutes later, this is the scene that ensues.
3 year old barreling into my room: Mommy, can you make me a twisty braid? Not one straight down the back, but an Elsa sidebraid with this purple ponytail holder?
Me: Grrrr….yes….(braids furiously, ties off hair)….now go away.
Husband: That was terrible. I can’t believe you just told her to go away. How could you say that to our child? What kind of lesson is that teaching her? This is our family weekend time and you should be spending it bonding with her instead of goofing off on Facebook.
While my husband was off taking care of his business, I was interrupted 458 times. That’s not an exaggeration; I counted. I oversaw four costume changes, three different hairstyles per child, arbitrated 7 disputes, refused two snack requests, reminded one kid where she can find water (hint: her cup) and read exactly one scroll-worth of facebook statuses. One single measly little scroll in 20 minutes of me-time.
If you are the primary caregiver (i.e. the person the kids call for when they need anything), you will recognize this as just another regular day in the parental office. It is what we do, and like it or not, we signed up for some amount of interruption the moment we agreed to house a child in our homes.
We perform these great daily feats in parenting so often that they become invisible to everyone in the house. No one sets out to become the family doormat, but somewhere in between working mom guilt and marital complacency and trying to avoid a visit from child protective services, we end up putting our own needs dead last and never even notice.
What would happen if we did notice? What would happen if we all stood up one day and said, “Fuck this shit! I have earned the right to have 20 minutes to myself to use any way I damn well like, including doing nothing but watching cute cat videos on YouTube!” What if we stopped spending every waking moment running around like chickens with our heads cut off, darting between parental obligations and activities that society wants us to do so that we’ll be better, skinnier, smarter versions of ourselves?
In trying to progress the women’s liberation movement and do all the things and be everything to everyone, I think we have all forgotten about being true to ourselves. I know I certainly have. Whereas my own mother had no hesitation about sending me out to play in the street so she could read an entire romance novel, I can’t seem to justify 3 minutes to check out a twitter notification.
Worse yet, I’ve let my husband and my children forget that I have passions and interests too, pursuits that have nothing to do with them.
This morning, as my husband stands over me with judgement in his eyes, I slowly close my laptop. Then I stand up and bash him repeatedly over the head with it, while loudly and clearly recounting every single bonding moment I have had with our children since they pulled me from my bed at 6:57am. The keyboard breaks off in my hands and he whimpers as he tries to block the shots to his arms and shoulders. I throw the remnants of my computer on the floor and march up the stairs to read my children the riot act. I ask them when is the last time they can remember doing something nice for mommy. When was the last time they let mommy sleep in or pee without banging on the door or ate dinner without complaining about the color of the vegetables on their plate? I show no sympathy for their trembling lower lips and tear-tracked cheeks.
I sweep through the closets and grab every single reminder of my maternal status: the last pairs of maternity pants, the old breast pump, and finally the dusty baby monitor that kept me at their beck and call twenty-four hours a day. I carry them into the backyard, pour lighter fluid on them, strike the match and sit back and laugh maniacally.
Or I don’t. None of it.
I look up at my husband and nod my head in shame, make a few stuttering attempts to explain that I had been playing with the kids. Then, giving up, I close my computer and head off to re-dress them for the day.
My mother’s generation burned their bras. My generation burns itself out. Maybe they had the right idea in the first place.
24 Comments
A Day in the Life of Lynn Mitty! Awesome post, Lynn.
I love this post!!! I often wonder how our children will do anything in life without being watched, helped, petted, combed, assisted, coddled, yelled at, stickered, etc….? And we think that we don’t give them enough attention. Sigh.
This is so fabulosuly fantastic. The pressure we had these days is enormous, and a lot of it comes from society, ourselves, and our kids as well. It’s not really fair that when fathers want some alone time, they feel entitled to it while mothers feel guilty about the very same thing! I also struggle with explaining to the kids that mommy needs alone time or else. Luckily, I don’t feel guilty either for sending them off to my husband or going away by myself. I know I am doing a good job and that my children will have no problems with playing alone once in a while. It’s already bad enough when society does it but when it comes from the family it stings even more. Great post, Lynn.
This is awesome. I went on strike once when my kids were younger. I felt so taken advantage of and unappreciated, no one was using manners, there was constant fighting and demanding, you know the drill. And, I felt my husband was taking me for granted as well. I told him in advance, but I made sure I included him in the family meeting as an offender. I said “I love you guys and I love taking care of you but I don’t like the way I’ve been treated lately. I’m going away for the weekend to a hotel, I’m taking the cats and some books. I need a break and rest and no demands. And when I come back, I want you all to start being more appreciative and grateful for all I do around here, all three of you. I work very hard and I need a break too, sometimes it has to be about me. I promise I’ll be back, but I need things to change.” And, it worked. It, of course, has to be reiterated, but that was the beginning of me talking to them in that way about my needs. I go on vacations alone or with friends, I have me time, and I am completely unapologetic about it. Now that they are older, they get it, even though they can be buttheads sometimes. I get a lot more I love you Moms and thank you for taking such good care of us (from the kids, at least). Let’s not go there on the husband.
I like your style, Jenny.
Moms who work outside the home and moms who don’t can *all* relate to this, I think. I went on strike some time back (I blogged about it, in fact – with pictures of the signs I hung everywhere in the house reminding everyone that I was, indeed, on strike, indefinitely). I just… lost my shit one morning. We all reach that breaking point because it is so easy to be taken for granted.
I finally starting asserting my right to have me-time because everyone else in this house gets it, and a shit ton of it, to boot. I even (gasp!) started taking small vacations without them. I go with my mom and aunts or cousins, whoever’s free for a midweek casino trip once every few months or so. In fact, I have one coming up at the end of next week. The first time I ever did that, I said to my husband, “Are you sure this is okay? Are you going to be okay? I feel so bad leaving you here to deal with everything. All the laundry’s done! I’ll only be an hour away if you need anything, but are you sure it’s okay if I leave for a couple of days?” I felt like I was groveling.
The next time, I said, “We made plans to go to Mountaineer, I’ll be gone on X days next month.” And I was completely unapologetic about it.
You absolutely deserve to have at least some uninterrupted YOU time. We have to be the ones who take it for ourselves, though, because nobody is going to give to us of their own volition.
Love this. I actually did throw my computer once (not recommended for any bloggers as it requires 46 hours at the Apple Store nodding your head when you don’t understand anything the computer guy says) and explaining your computer (which your husband now lovingly calls the “taco,”) broke when, um, you threw it against the wall. And then stepped on it. because your husband pointed out how many mistakes you had made when planning a vacation (dates etc). Because, um, it’s easy not to err when you never make a single plan. But yes, great post. Very true and well said.
I think this is my new favorite Lynn post. Yes. I work hard and sometimes, I just want twenty freakin’ minutes to myself. Maybe my choice is to spend that twenty minutes reading about what people on Facebook are doing. I have felt guilty for taking me time and I’ve felt like I need to make excuses for needing a break.
This was eye-opening. And fabulous and all that stuff.
I so feel you. I am so burnt out between work, single parenting, growing my freelance business, growing my tea business, and I really just want to take a bubble bath some days and have a glass of wine and not have someone touching me for five flipping minutes for the love of god.
I too long for cat videos on the internet. Pass the lighter fluid, sister.
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TOTALLY. Me-time is for ME to decide what to do. Sorry that I don’t want to read Crime and Punishment or do something that will better myself. Maybe I just want to look at Facebook or zone out with a chick-lit book. It’s MY choice! Not that I get any me-time. But in theory 🙂
Mama, I like your first idea better. Your hubs needs a swift kick. Maybe a gentle one because changing perspectives takes time, effort and understanding, but yeah. A boot where it counts, because seriously. WHERE was he for those 20 minutes?? Sure not doing Elsa braids while he had that “quiet time”.
Don’t let him get away with that, seriously. It’s bad for your marriage. I should know- I’m not married any more. lol And honestly, in all seriousness… when I look back on moments like that… it’s hard to be sorry. And that’s not a feeling I’d wish on anyone.
I am with you Life with Teens, they would have had to get that laptop surgically removed from his backside
When my kids were very little I started having “time-outs” so that I could take a 5 or 10 minute break. Now, they’re not much older, only 6 and 7, but when I say I need a little break they do leave me alone (mostly) for it. They usually end up snuggling beside me when I am reading or just playing nearby, but it’s not too bad. When I REALLY need a break, I put on a movie and tell them they CAN’T come bother me until the movie is done. Every now and then it actually works! I know… I’m shocked, too!
My husband is much better at taking his breaks, and we’re working on me getting to take them to. I try not to dwell on it too much because I know it won’t be long until I will have all the time in the world without them at my side. Until then- I relish those 5-10 minute mini-breaks.
Wild things – you are right and he has had to surgically remove the laptop and my foot a few times. I am far far from a snivelling pillow biter and don’t hesitate to remind him of HIS me time.
Setting all of that aside, there is still a very real perception among society that we primary caregivers should be doing something “valuable” with our Me time and that was more what I was trying to address. Take my friend Jennifer from the Real Life Parenting blog, her “Mom on the iPhone, you’re doing fine” post took the world by storm because she finally stood up and said that it is okay to take your kids to the park and read your Facebook newsfeed while they climb the jungle gym. Revolutionary thoughts indeed. We should not feel guilty for taking a little time for ourselves NOR should we feel guilty for what we do with that freetime. Cat videos happen to be very entertaining.
Can you hear me over here in ‘Murica? I’m clapping. Yes. So much this. I wonder why I still haven’t finished that second novel after “wrting” it for two years. Um, maybe because I’ve been cooking, cleaning, working the day job, and micromanaging. I want my own apartment. Only the cat can join me there. ‘
LOVE this. It’s the small shit that always goes unnoticed too, ever notice that? For instance, how does our child wake up with a lion mane and pop out the door with a perfectly poise pony-tail? She sure as hell didn’t accomplish that! Oh, that’s right–that was ME. I’m going to burn my Target bras tonight.
WARNING: It doesn’t end when they go to college. Our 4th child was born on our twins’ first day of kindergarten – so I’ve been there. It wasn’t a laptop but I once shattered one of those Disney character plastic plates in sheer madness while making pancakes. (imagine the slam of plate to countertop- the whole point of that plastic shit is that it’s unbreakable. Hah.) Just last night I counseled my college sophomore daughter for one and a half hours over some top rate BS surrounding sorority biz (could some of you bloggers grab the Deltas and the Gammas and the rest of the Greeks by their bouncy ponytails and explain sisterhood to these sisters before they’re out in the real world?!?) and after the phone call I really needed to debrief, vent, exhale, detox. Hey, look, there’s her dad! Surely he wants to know why his child who is 800 miles away was crying for 90 minutes. So I start to share an edited version and he says, “I’ve got five minutes before I need to go to bed.” SOMEONE HAND ME A DAMN PLASTIC DISNEY PLATE!!
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Yes, yes, yes. And yes. I have been fighting the battle of reclaiming myself for the last few years. My kids are 8 & 9 and are somewhat self-sufficient in that I no longer get them drinks or snacks or fold their laundry. One day, I just started saying No, I’m busy, if you need it right now you can do it yourself otherwise you can wait. It hasn’t always been easy. But piece by piece I feel like I’m slowly getting myself back and emerging from servitude.
I’m proud of you for freeing yourself of some of these bonds, but I’m a little sad your maternity pants went into the fire. Personally, I think those are the most comfortable pants out there!
You write this tongue-in-cheek, but yet it resonated to me- or “past” me- so much that I had to comment.
4 years ago, I was a married mother of 4 (a high schooler, two elementary students & a toddler.) My life revolves around taking care of other people’s needs & it was slowly driving me to depression. My husband didn’t understand. He took time to indulge in his hobbies- day long golf trips, etc- while I stayed home and tended to the little people. I also worked full time & went to school. All I asked was a Saturday morning or two to walk to the park & read a book uninterrupted. I got guilted for wanting that.
When my youngest was 2, I felt myself becoming a shadow of anything I had once aspired to be. I suddenly had a Feminine Mystique moment, upped & left my husband. It had been a long time in the making. As a result, he had them every other weekend, and two nights a week for dinner. Suddenly I found myself with free time. And I took all the advantage I could.
I’m not going to say the transition was easy at first, but the result was that I spread my wings. And I flew. My children have since seen me help to spearhead a national advocacy campaign (#noteenshame) & become a community correspondent with Sacramento Voices. My new endeavors have allowed us to travel the country, & meet all sorts of wonderful, inspiring people. They are happy, because they’ve seen me come alive. I think it’s interesting that the majority of divorces are initiated by women, and I can’t help but wonder how many have done so out of reasons like mine.
Anyway, thanks for this hilarious piece ?
You are a big whiner and you mom was a saint to raise you. You are still talking about her at 39. Karma will always demand repayment.
Have you been reading too much fake news? Where did you see me complaining about my mother in this post?