Hi, I’m Mary. You might remember me as the person who used to write this blog. Funny story, but as my life got busier, my favorite past times fell by the wayside.
I love writing a blog a lot. But, it takes time and brain power that I haven’t had lately. Surely you can relate. (If not, please send your magic pills.) Anyway, I’m back. Hopefully better than ever. Thank you for sticking with me!
You probably know that I am a mom of two toddler boys and I work outside of the home part-time. Every night, I spend an hour doing something that I enjoy and makes me feel like my self again.
At the end of my days, I feel equal parts accomplished and beat up. During the day, I usually squeeze in some work, exercise, play, balanced meals and about ten billion toddler tantrums. In the evenings, after the kids are asleep, I like to start a load of laundry, take out the trash, run the dishwasher, and pickup after the tornado that hit my house. I should probably unload backpacks, organize a closet, clean out my car, fold laundry, weed the yard and save the world. But, I’m just too damn tired.
My husband is typically not home in the evenings, so the childcare, the cleaning, and the motivation to do something extra is all on me. Honestly, I think about this statement and it sounds so pathetic that I want to invite a friend over for a “kids in bed” cocktail, but I don’t do it because at that point, I am just D.O.N.E.
After the kids go to sleep and the basic housework is finished, there is a precious hour before I go to sleep too… and I cherish it. I don’t want to share it. I am selfish with that time. It’s me time.
I carry some guilt about this decision, but I have deemed that time “mommy hour.” I read a book, watch tv, take a bath, or drink wine in total silence; sometimes I get fancy and paint my nails or give myself a facial. It doesn’t really matter, it’s just important that I do something for me.
If moms were to calculate the number of hours we work in a week, either at our jobs or with our kids, our time card would show well over 80 hours – double the hours of a “full-time” job. So, why do we feel bad spending an hour at night decompressing? Why do we have that constantly nagging feeling that we should be accomplishing something?
I recently read a study that said moms experience more worry, sadness, stress, anger, and depression than non-moms. These rates are even higher in stay-at-home moms than in working moms. Self-care is the top cure for these issues.
Every time I get down on myself for not being a perfect mom, wife, cook, or house keeper, I try to remember that the alternative isn’t very charming either!