I went into motherhood fully aware that I’d be needed, but I never anticipated the magnitude of that need. Keeping a little human alive is a workout for both the body and the mind. Yet, I dove into parenting again, and then again, fully aware of the impending loss of free time. It’s just part of the gig for our kids and family.
Some days, I embrace this role without hesitation, knowing that the demands of parenting ebb and flow. Kids will always need their parents, no matter what they say. However, their needs will evolve, and one day they will seek friendships and carve their own paths. I get that, but it doesn’t stop me from sometimes wishing for a little less dependency.
The idea of losing myself in a hobby without interruptions—no tiny hands tugging at me, asking for a Band-Aid, or needing help with homework while I juggle dinner prep—feels like a distant dream. At times, I long to sneak away to my car or a nearby hotel just to reconnect with myself. I don’t need a ton of time—just a quick check-in to remember who I am. After over 13 years of motherhood, I’ve learned that carving out “me time” is essential, regardless of how tired I feel or how busy life gets.
So, the other night, while my family slumbered peacefully, I found myself up late chatting with a friend on Facebook Messenger. The night before, I struggled to keep my eyes open while diving into an incredible book. Sure, I could’ve nodded off, but there’s something magical about the silence enveloping me, the cozy down comforter, and the moonlight peeking through the window every few pages. Just being.
I’ve pulled all-nighters sewing a quilt, binge-watching HGTV until 1 a.m., and tackling home projects that I can finish in one go when the house is quiet. It feels so satisfying to tick things off my list without distractions.
Every Saturday and Sunday morning, I have a choice: stay in bed and doze as the sun rises, or tiptoe outside for my daily run. Those moments alone with my thoughts, while my kids catch up on sleep, are precious. I can wander wherever I please, stopping to admire a field of cows or a family of turkeys, breathing in the fresh air. When I return, I’m a rejuvenated version of myself. Swapping a few hours of sleep for “me time” has proven to be a worthwhile trade-off.
I know my kids rely on me, and I cherish that. It’s part of my role, and I excel at being fully present for them. But I also need to nurture the person I was before motherhood. She still exists, and it’s perfectly okay for her to make an appearance now and then.
For me, that time is at night after the kids are tucked in and the house is blissfully quiet.