As summer rolled in before my youngest began preschool, I found myself daydreaming about all that lovely free time I’d soon have. Every time I passed an antique shop, I jotted down mental notes, envisioning myself lounging in the steam room at our gym. “I’m starting to prune,” I’d joke with the other moms in the steam room, sipping my herbal tea while planning my next movie outing.
I imagined diving into the Lost Generation section at the library, finally getting inspired enough to write my novel at a quaint local café that doesn’t have a drive-thru. I pictured flower boxes brightening up my windows, peaceful car rides filled with old-school gangster rap, and peaceful drives without any squabbling in the back seat.
Every time I spotted something I wanted to do that was off-limits with kids in tow, I tucked it away in my ever-growing collection of Fantasy Plans. Finally, with two and a half hours of precious alone time every week, I felt like I was on the brink of making my dreams a reality. I’ve always believed in the importance of taking time for oneself to recharge—it’s like filling my pitcher so I can pour love and energy into my kids. After two long years, my pitcher felt like it was running dry.
The first week, I tackled some overdue errands: a doctor’s appointment I had been avoiding for months, followed by getting new brakes on the car. No worries, I thought—my Fantasy Plans could wait; I had all year ahead.
The next week brought my middle daughter’s birthday, which meant shopping for gifts, cake, party supplies, and booking the park pavilion. By the time I picked her up, I was frazzled and still hadn’t carved out a moment for myself, but I reassured myself that I had the rest of the year.
Then my eldest caught whatever bug was circulating that month. Frustration bubbled up as I argued with the teacher, dragging my pale daughter back to the car. “What do you mean she can’t stay if she’s throwing up?” I protested. “Just give her a trash can and let her sit in the corner! I want my steam room time!”
Before I knew it, one commitment led to another. “Sure, I’ll help collate the buzz books next week,” I told my middle daughter’s teacher without thinking. “Of course I can set up the book fair on Friday!” I found myself saying to my eldest’s room mom.
Homemade purple Play-Doh by tomorrow? No problem! I’ll squeeze in a teeth cleaning on Friday. And don’t worry—I’ll find those size 4 tights for dance class, even if it means a wild goose chase around town.
As the months flew by, it became December, and just like that, my plans for me-time vanished under a mountain of holiday tasks. I barely had a moment to breathe with stocking stuffers and matching Christmas jammies on my mind.
I held onto hope that the new year would finally grant me my long-awaited Fantasy Plans. After all, I had four glorious hours of free time each week to look forward to. And yet, come February, reality hit hard when I spent a whole morning running around to three different Office Depots hunting for printer ink. Spring break loomed, and my novel was still just a collection of jumbled thoughts in a battered notebook.
I realized the chaos of keeping a household running was consuming more time than I had anticipated. Why do they always need so many cookies? Why are we out of stamps? Why can’t I just handle this mole myself?
The line between my life and my kids’ lives blurred even more as we entered our third year of preschool. I’ve only had a few days where my Fantasy Plans came to fruition: a stroll here, brunch with a friend there. But I remind myself that kindergarten is just around the corner, and then I’ll have all the time in the world. Please don’t tell me otherwise.
For more on this journey, check out our other blog posts, including this one about embracing life’s changes. You might also find helpful insights on home insemination here, or check out Cryobaby’s home insemination syringe kit for your needs.
Summary:
In this lighthearted reflection, Sarah Mitchell candidly shares her dreams of free time as her youngest daughter prepares for preschool. Despite her hopes of diving into self-care and personal projects, unforeseen commitments and responsibilities keep taking precedence. As the chaos of motherhood continues to blur the boundaries of her personal life, she holds onto the belief that more time for herself is just around the corner.