I went away for my second annual girls weekend and on my four hour drive home, found myself crying. Same thing happened at the end of my weekend last year. Initially it feels like sadness, like grieving the fact that I can no longer live that way every weekend. Then it felt kind of mixed, like an emotional letdown of having experienced real relaxation after months of normal day to day stressors. It really takes physical separation of time and space to take in the weight of what we all do all day every day at home, tending to all the creatures in the land of needy beings twenty four hours a day, seven days a week…forever and ever until the end of time. Or until college, whichever comes first.
I often hear new mothers or pregnant friends tell me they were worried they won’t bond with their babies, or that they don’t have ‘maternal instincts’. I never had that worry for myself. I loved and bonded with my oldest before she was even born. I became a fierce mother the moment she was put in my arms. What I wasn’t prepared for, was how quickly my ‘mom-ness’ would quickly take over my ‘me-ness.’
I recently went to a training course, and the coordinator had us do an icebreaker that involved telling every nearby stranger three fun facts about ourselves. I was instantly dumbfounded. Three facts? Umm I’m a mom, I’m a physical therapist and I like to work out? That’s fun, right? What killed me is that I used to be sooooo fun. I could’ve have listed off twenty fun facts ten years ago. I like to think I’m a ‘fun mom’ and I know we do tons of ‘fun things’ as a family…but what happened to the ‘fun me’ part?
Girls weekend, which was nothing more than sitting around a campfire by a beautiful pond, laughing with my friends till two in the morning, reminds me of who I am. Reminds me what it feels to be me. Not the mom-me, although she is awesome in her own right, but the me who existed for twenty eight years before that, who wrote and sketched, who loved daydreaming to music, who spent hours and days laughing with her best friends in beautiful places. The me who loved a road trip, went to festivals, never said no to a party and filled her pre-baby life with crazy memories only those who were with her will ever fully appreciate.
So I cried. I cried because I am so grateful for all the experiences I’ve had that have made me ‘me’. And I cried because I’m excited that at least once a year, maybe more as the kids get older, I can still have a weekend when I can really feel like me again. And I cried because I know how blessed I am to have a loving husband to care for my girls when I go away, and I cried in gratitude for the amazing little girls I get to come home to.
I know I can’t run off to the mountains every weekend, but now I have the opportunity to teach my kids to love all these things that made me who I am. So I pledge to teach them the beauty of music and campfires and friendships and starlight. To help them laugh and to love, to make and keep great friends, and to take time for themselves. To help them to find what makes them happy and to nurture it, and to always and forever and unapologetically just be.
So this goes out to all the mamas in the trenches. May you recognize how hard you work from the moment you wake up, to the moment you go to bed, and may you too, know the pleasure of a few days off to get to know you again.
About the author: Katie Wadland is a Massachusetts-based mama raising her girls with her husband out in suburbia. She sometimes wakes up and wonders how the hell she got here. She’s a part-time Physical Therapist, part-time Blogger and full-time Beta Mom Extraordinaire. She has been published at Scary Mommy and Kveller.com, and the rest of her ramblings, workouts and recipes can be found at EatSleepMomRepeat. She is also on Facebook, Instagram and at Twitter.
