Before I had children, I used to take on all kinds of activity: work, yoga, softball, parties, party planning, day trips, shopping, happy hour - filling up my schedule until I was ready to drop. At that point I would declare a shutdown of the calendar, and on the next available weekend, I would simply veg out. Watch a marathon of The Surreal Life on VH1. Read an entire book. Skip showers, get takeout, or eat leftovers, never leaving the house. After a day or two of sloth, I'd be recharged, ready to start all over again.
The only thing that's changed since I had children is the opportunity to crash. I still take on too much, but I've had to adapt to the presence of two little boys who depend on me for everything. Alone time is almost non-existent, and there's no sleeping in. I barely get the remote long enough to find my own show before someone whines so loud I have to hand it over to dull the noise, risking the reprogramming of my entire media system in the process. I still skip showers, though.
There's little or no opportunity to recharge. My job starts the moment I open my eyes, sometimes before that. (Those are not good days.) It ends after the kids go to bed. But it doesn't really end. There's always that vigilance, that constant below-the-surface anxiety, the humming awareness that Something Can Go Wrong. I try not to pay attention to it, because man, I'm tired.
Last night I had a book club meeting, one of those blessed events that leaves my husband home with the children and me on leave for a few hours for wine and adult conversation. The group is mostly single women who have not yet had kids. They talked of long vacations, of sleeping in, of going to the gym on a regular basis. I know those things are not lost to me forever, but they sure feel very far away. I'll admit it, I was jealous. I know in reality that if I left my family for 2 weeks I would miss them too much and my house would most likely explode. Still, I was jealous.
For now I will work on saying "no" to those extra projects or events more often, and savor the quiet moments when I can. After all, I learned when my first son was very young that party hopping with kids leads to unfortunate public diaper changing, and nobody likes a party pooper.
I agree there are days I kinda miss life before my son, but then I look into that handsome little face of his and the longing for life pre-child just disappears.
Before I had children, I used to take on all kinds of activity: work, yoga, softball, parties, party planning, day trips, shopping, happy hour - filling up my schedule until I was ready to drop. At that point I would declare a shutdown of the calendar, and on the next available weekend, I would simply veg out. Watch a marathon of The Surreal Life on VH1. Read an entire book. Skip showers, get takeout, or eat leftovers, never leaving the house. After a day or two of sloth, I'd be recharged, ready to start all over again.
The only thing that's changed since I had children is the opportunity to crash. I still take on too much, but I've had to adapt to the presence of two little boys who depend on me for everything. Alone time is almost non-existent, and there's no sleeping in. I barely get the remote long enough to find my own show before someone whines so loud I have to hand it over to dull the noise, risking the reprogramming of my entire media system in the process. I still skip showers, though.
There's little or no opportunity to recharge. My job starts the moment I open my eyes, sometimes before that. (Those are not good days.) It ends after the kids go to bed. But it doesn't really end. There's always that vigilance, that constant below-the-surface anxiety, the humming awareness that Something Can Go Wrong. I try not to pay attention to it, because man, I'm tired.
Last night I had a book club meeting, one of those blessed events that leaves my husband home with the children and me on leave for a few hours for wine and adult conversation. The group is mostly single women who have not yet had kids. They talked of long vacations, of sleeping in, of going to the gym on a regular basis. I know those things are not lost to me forever, but they sure feel very far away. I'll admit it, I was jealous. I know in reality that if I left my family for 2 weeks I would miss them too much and my house would most likely explode. Still, I was jealous.
For now I will work on saying "no" to those extra projects or events more often, and savor the quiet moments when I can. After all, I learned when my first son was very young that party hopping with kids leads to unfortunate public diaper changing, and nobody likes a party pooper.