Reclaiming My Peace of Mind: I Desire to Be a Mom, Not a Family Operations Manager

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During a recent session, my therapist shared a surprising statistic: working mothers today spend more time with their children than stay-at-home moms did back in the 1950s. Honestly, I sometimes wish I could experience a bit of that vintage parenting style. I envision myself like those mothers, enjoying a refreshing drink on the porch while my kids play freely in the neighborhood until dinner time.

Instead, I find myself glued to my phone, frantically trying to manage an avalanche of emails related to my children while attempting to squeeze in some “quality time” with whichever kid I’m currently driving to an activity. How did we transition from that laid-back era to this chaotic one? Those 1950s moms would struggle to cope with today’s parenting demands.

As of 2017, I’m just an ordinary mom on the brink of exhaustion. With four children attending three different schools in New York City, I must work full-time merely to keep up with the whirlwind of obligations. Some of these challenges are self-imposed, like the decision to enroll my kids in football, gymnastics, soccer, and animal care classes—each one adding to my stress about punctuality. But how could I deny them enriching experiences? I fear they would be deprived, left behind, or unstimulated! AHHHH!

It’s amusing to consider that during their unstructured time at home, my kids rarely experience boredom. Just the other day, my little ones spent over an hour joyfully pulling each other around the living room on a broom, laughing uncontrollably. Who knew that the laundry “claw” could become such a popular “toy”?

My inbox is a circus. Each class schedules curriculum nights, parent cocktail parties, and coffee meet-ups. Events requiring special snacks or donations loom over me, like bringing in a stuffed animal for chapel or donating a box of rice (yes, rice!) for the school picnic. I have to set reminders for when Eli the stuffed elephant comes home with us. Those 1950s moms didn’t even have email!

Moreover, every extracurricular activity now demands orientations, parent viewing classes (with medals!), and specific outfit requirements. “This week, wear black shorts and a white T-shirt!” Why? Why?! The calendar is overflowing with class trips, chaperones, picture days, dress-up and dress-down days, PTA meetings, and the food allergy group meeting. My schedule is so cluttered that I can barely see what’s beneath it all, not to mention the various apps I need to download to keep track of my children’s homework or to monitor their science classes.

And God forbid I try to carve out time for myself—like making an appointment for that tooth that’s been causing me pain for months. The relentless stress of parenting is a constant cycle, only broken during the late hours when my oldest finally falls asleep, which is usually followed by my youngest wandering into my room, requesting water or snuggling up to me. I could spend that time reconnecting with my husband or tackling the thousands of digital photos piling up, but I often find myself raiding the pantry. My current favorites? Vanilla animal crackers, washed down with a shot of tequila.

On the topic of indulgences, I’ve never relied on my evening glass of wine more than now. Recently, my doctor had to prescribe antibiotics, and I delayed starting the treatment for two weeks to avoid giving up my beloved evening drink.

I used to enjoy exercising, but with my children’s schedules, my workouts have been reduced to just getting them to their practices. I recognize that even a brief 30-minute workout would help my mental state, but as soon as I manage to hop on the elliptical, I’m bombarded with calls from the school nurse or doctor’s office, and before I know it, I’ve lost track of time and have to pick up my son.

I’m exhausted. I’m ready to throw in the towel—the one with my daughter’s pre-printed name tag stitched onto it. I can’t seem to remember important details like which day is Kids in Sports T-shirt day, or even buy thoughtful birthday gifts for my children’s friends, let alone for my own family. I rush from reading bedtime stories to attending yet another class cocktail party, then back to helping with spelling quizzes and math homework. (What even is a greatest common factor?!) I can’t even find time to shave my legs anymore. And as for manicures and pedicures? We’re talking once a year. Eyebrow maintenance? Forget about it. Somehow, I still manage to look presentable, but inside, I’m falling apart.

In the past four years, there’s only been one night where no child woke me up during the night. And by “my days,” I mean the additional stress of co-parenting, packing for different households, and managing communication with my ex while simultaneously celebrating my new marriage. Just the other morning, while lying in bed, I reached for my phone to check an email about a playdate while processing messages from my ex. My husband attempted to initiate a romantic moment, but I was in full “mom ninja warrior” mode!

With my two little ones sneaking into my bed every night despite my numerous attempts to enforce bedtime, intimacy has become nearly impossible. I often wonder how any relationship can sustain itself amid this parenting frenzy. I feel fortunate that my husband and I can enjoy time together every other weekend when my ex has the kids, but the reality is if we didn’t, I’m not sure how we would manage. I’m head over heels for him, but parenting multiple children in today’s world can often lead to marital stress and mental strain.

But what can be eliminated from this overwhelming schedule? Perhaps we could collaborate with other moms to share responsibilities for events, like saying, “You attend curriculum night, and I’ll cover the parent-teacher conferences.” Maybe we should request that schools streamline their communications and events. Perhaps I should start skipping some of these obligations altogether, but then I risk losing contact with friends who don’t spend all day watching cartoons. I almost never get to chat with my friends anymore except for those who are also navigating the same drop-offs and pickups, so I’m grateful for their camaraderie, as venting helps me get through each day.

The truth is, I chose to have these children because I genuinely love being with them. I want to snuggle, laugh, and play, rather than get bogged down in managing their schedules to the point that I can’t sit on the floor and enjoy a simple tea party. I didn’t sign up for this stay-at-home role to utilize my business skills for organizing car pools; I wanted to be present with my kids.

I believe there is a pressing need for a movement to reclaim a parent’s right to sanity, a right to engage with their children without the constant burden of managing school reminders, newsletters, and alerts. Parenting shouldn’t feel like a full-time job filled with forms, sign-ups, and logistical nightmares. Parents deserve a break so we can be the nurturing caregivers we aspire to be, rather than stressed managers at home.

Just yesterday, I received an email from school requesting empty toilet paper rolls. No. Absolutely not! I can’t do it anymore. Instead, I’m taking my kids to the local bookstore for an hour of reading, coloring, and simply being together. If that makes me a negligent class parent, then so be it.

This article was originally published on November 27, 2017.

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Summary:

This article illustrates the overwhelming demands placed on modern parents, particularly mothers, who often find themselves more like family managers than caregivers. The author expresses a desire to reclaim the joy of parenting amidst the chaos of modern obligations, emphasizing the importance of being present with children rather than getting lost in administrative tasks. The piece advocates for a balance between fulfilling responsibilities and nurturing relationships with children, ultimately calling for a movement to restore parental sanity.