Fly Away

My mom always tells me how wonderful it is that I'm a mom at a time when, more than ever, moms can say how they really feel about being a mom. All the hard, raw, ugly truth. It's safe, especially when you have a tight-knit group of mom friends to commiserate with.

I remember 15 years ago when my cousin had her first baby and she said something to the effect of, "When you're a mother you suffer in silence," which is basically saying that you might be miserable but it's not about you anymore so shut your mouth, put on a happy face, and make your child's life worthwhile. And I thought, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

How wrong was I?!

Do you know what would happen if we suffered in silence? Pretty much all the things that happened to so many mothers in the 50s and 60s. Depression. Addiction. Abandonment. Suicide.

Being a mother is absolutely amazing. But it is not all bliss. There are some very real, very deep valleys, and when you're in one, the last thing you want to do is remain silent. Instinctually, if you were alone in a deep, dark place, would you not call out for help? Would you not seek a higher vantage point?

I read a blog post today from a funny mommy blogger (which is a thing now, another outlet for moms to vent and laugh at all the nuances of being a parent), and she wrote, "Mothers have a deeper need for emotional and physical space than anyone else, and yet we are the ones who are least likely to manage to make that happen for ourselves." Did you see that? We have the greatest need, yet we are least likely to have that need met.

Being a mother is not a burden, but it is burdensome. It is something I chose with my whole heart and I have never once regretted. I love so much about it. But the hard stuff? I don't think anyone can say they enjoy the hard stuff. Calls from your kid's school because they got in trouble...again. Sitting in yet another parent-teacher meeting because your kid just can't keep up and needs a revised IEP. Cleaning up bodily fluids from surfaces they most definitely should not be on. Calling your husband in tears because your children have flooded the kitchen. Spending hard-earned money to replace one broken thing after another. Worrying about your kids' futures, the choices they will make, the people they will be.

Why would I want to be silent about any of this?

And also, it's clear why moms need a break.

Regularly, we are all together and yet the kids still defer to me for everything. I can be in another room, with Rocky right next to them, and they will still call out for me to help them, get them something, answer a question...Mommy is the word.

I am not one of those people who loves to be needed.

Before I had kids I was a big believer in personal space. Alone time. Hardcore introverting.

These things are unheard of once you have kids.

And I would not trade my kids- hear me! Not for one second does my desire for personal space trump my desire to be a mom, but...

Sometimes we need a break, man!

Sometimes the incessant, "Mommy?" and never-ending laundry and mountains of dishes and constantly pickup up everyone. else's. crap. warrants a break.

Even people in solitary confinement get an hour outside each day.

Two weeks ago, on a Thursday night, I asked Rocky if I could go to Target alone. I needed a break. I ended up having (choosing) to take the baby because he had to work from home, but I was alone enough, I guess. I took my time, browsed the aisles, spent wayyyyy more than I had planned, but I came to the (re)realization that I needed this break at least once a week. I came home and declared that Thursday nights would be mine. After dinner, I would take a few hours to myself, outside of the house, to be alone doing something that didn't involve (1) shopping for needed household items like toilet paper or (2) anything related to the kids, unless I so chose.

That was two weeks ago.

I haven't have alone time since.

Sometimes even just the thought of a long, uninterrupted shower is enough to make me swoon.

You know what the most ridiculous thing is, though? It's even hard for me to enjoy this mythical alone time, because I'm constantly thinking about, or missing, Owen.

That baby.

Gah.

I just hate being away from him for long periods of time. He might be my only baby (another way my mommy-mind manipulates me from taking care of me) and so I don't want to miss out on him. And then I worry that he's not being played with and engaged if I leave him (mommy guilt and daddy blame). And then I stress that he might be hungry (breast is best, after all...right?)

You see? Not only can I not get away, but the thought of getting away from Owen gives me anxiety.

So what does that mean?

W(h)ine and cheese nights with other moms?

Strolling through Target, baby in tow, just for a change of scenery? ($$$$$)

Short, infrequent, one-hour breaks because that time amount limits all the guilt and anxiety listed above?

What would I even do with myself if I could take a break once a week? I'm pretty sure I don't have any hobbies...

What do moms do when they're not momming?

You'll have to ask me months from now, when I've finally put Owen down and stopped kissing him a million times a day. Otherwise, I'm pretty certain my "breaks" will include him.