Here I am, perched on my bed with my laptop, fully prepared for a deep dive into my Facebook News Feed. It’s 9 a.m. on a Saturday, and I have just one goal before whisking my daughter off to piano lessons at 10 a.m.: to scroll through all the latest posts. Sure, it might not be the most ambitious plan, but as a 37-year-old full-time working mom, this is as close as I get to a social life outside of school pickups and snack time. You might chuckle, but I saw you liked my last post, so I know you’re in the same boat.
My husband has embarked on his daily ritual of “conversing with the governor” — a.k.a. bathroom time — while my kids are upstairs playing harmoniously. I’ve already fed, clothed, bathed, and wiped everyone’s behinds, and now I’m ready for a much-deserved moment of peace.
But just 20 minutes later, as my husband strolls in from his bathroom retreat, chaos ensues:
“Mommy! Can you make me a twisty braid? Not the one straight down the back, but an Elsa side-braid with this purple hair tie?”
Me: Grrrr…yes…(I braid quickly, tie it off)…now can you please go away?
Husband: That was terrible! How could you say that to our child? This is family weekend time, and you should be bonding with her instead of goofing off on Facebook.
While he was busy doing his business, I was interrupted a whopping 458 times — no exaggeration, I counted. I managed four costume changes, three different hairstyles per child, played referee for seven squabbles, turned down two snack requests, reminded one child where to find water (hint: it’s in her cup), and read exactly one measly scroll of Facebook posts in 20 minutes of supposed me-time.
If you’re the primary caregiver, you know this is just another day in the parental grind. We juggle these endless tasks so frequently that they become invisible to everyone else. No one intends to become the family’s doormat, but somewhere between working mom guilt, marital complacency, and the fear of a surprise visit from child protective services, we end up neglecting our own needs.
What if we actually acknowledged our struggles? What if one day we collectively declared, “Enough is enough! I deserve at least 20 minutes to myself to do whatever I please, even if it’s just watching cat videos on YouTube!” What if we stopped racing around like headless chickens, trying to fulfill parental duties and societal expectations to become better, slimmer, smarter versions of ourselves?
In our quest for liberation and doing it all, many of us have lost sight of staying true to ourselves. I know I have. While my mother had no qualms about sending me outside to play while she indulged in a romance novel, I can’t even justify three minutes to check Twitter.
Even worse, I’ve allowed my husband and kids to forget that I have my own interests—hobbies that don’t revolve around them.
As my husband looms over me with judgment, I shut my laptop and contemplate a dramatic outburst. Instead of smashing it over his head, I take a deep breath and ask my kids when they last did something nice for me. When was the last time they let me sleep in, or use the bathroom without interruptions, or eat a meal without complaints about the vegetables? I might not show much sympathy for their quivering lips and tear-streaked cheeks.
In a fit of frustration, I gather every last reminder of my maternal status: my maternity pants, the old breast pump, and even the dusty baby monitor that kept me at their beck and call 24/7. Picture me carrying them into the yard, pouring lighter fluid over them, and striking a match while cackling maniacally.
But in reality, I just look up at my husband and nod in shame, mumbling about how I was “playing” with the kids. I give in, close my laptop, and head off to re-dress them for the day.
My mother’s generation burned their bras; my generation is burning out. Maybe they had the right idea all along.
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Summary:
This humorous yet relatable piece captures the often-overlooked struggles of motherhood, emphasizing the need for self-care in a busy family life. It highlights the interruptions and demands that come with parenting, and reflects on the importance of acknowledging one’s own needs amidst the chaos.