I am a workaholic. Although I am NOT a prolific blogger, it is because I have committed myself to too much work this year. The math didn’t add up in September when the madness started, and it doesn’t add up now. So my blog suffers, and I just do the best I can and deal with the deficit the best I can. But I love being busy. I choose it. I like having a lot of work, because I love my work. I love my work more than I love a lot of aspects of parenting, and waaaaay more than I love housework. But I care about my parenting, and my housework, and my career and I know when I am not doing my best at any of them.
I took some time this week to “go for coffee”. Wow, I used to do that a lot. Living in Israel, especially single and dating, going for coffee was the norm. Nowadays I don’t seem to go anywhere except for the grocery store and work. Since I work at the same place I drop off my kids for school and from home, that means basically I just go to the grocery store.
So, justifying this outing as a good work contact – which it is – I took the afternoon and drove off.
On the way home I was so happy to be walking into the mad chaos that is my reality at 4:00 pm. I realized as cliche as it might be that “me time” isn’t just some phrase to justify strolls in the mall for those with too much leisure time. We take a Shabbat break from our week, a Shmitta break from our livelihood – but what about a break from our lives? I feel weak when insisting on such a thing. Do you think that Rivka and Leah got up and told the Avot that they were taking off for Eilat with their girlfriends because the kids were just driving them nuts?
I realized that whether or not it makes me “softer” than generations gone by really isn’t the point. I do my job(s) better when I escape them a bit. I am better at who I am when I don’t have to be who I am for a little while. Not taking that time, regardless of whether others do or should is the best way I can take care of everyone else that is counting on me.
So who wants to join me for a few days in Eilat? Or Vegas? Or just “for coffee”?
Everything in balance, right?
I spent a decade as a Stay At Home Mom (SAHM). I did it for ideological reasons, believing it was the best choice for my family for that time. NOT because it is my nature. I hate going the park.* I don’t like pushing swings. I detest housework, and the satisfaction I get from a gleaming, dust-free house is in no way increased by doing it myself.
As many of my readers know (“many” might mean three of you), I have transitioned over the last couple of years from SAHM to part-time WAHM mom to full time WAH and out-of-the-home mom. And I love it. I find the balancing act a constant challenge. I never have enough time. There are a lot of things I still haven’t gotten right, and I am always backed up on laundry.
At the same time, I love what I do. I am finding tremendous satisfaction and fulfillment from my work, and I believe my children benefit a great deal from my happiness. When I had 5 kids ages under the age of 6 (!), being home was the right move. Now I am enjoying the transition to this new phase of a house of “big kids”. ( I hope I feel as happy about phasing into a house full of teenagers. But that is for another time.)
Yet there are of course times that I miss doing with my youngest two what I did with my older guys. It is inevitable. I have heard it said many times that the fate of a working mom is to feel guilty while at work over everything she isn’t doing with her family, and to feel guilty while with her family about all of the work she isn’t getting done at the office. I am trying to avoid this cliche.
Last Monday was President’s Day, which is “Family Fun Day” at the State Theater in New Brunswick, NJ. My husband had arranged for three tickets to “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”. It was a puppet show of actually three Eric Carle stories put on by the very talented Mermaid Theatre of Nova Scotia. It was beautiful, a “shush free” performance, and very, very slow. It is just the kind of thing that would have driven me completely nuts back in my SAHM days. Crowded manuevering, packing food ahead, and trying to navigate the bathroom. It all used to make me grumble and groan.
Now? This was time off. This was time to savor my little guys while they are still somewhat little. The soon-t0-be three year old sat on my lap oohing, aahing and exclaiming “airplane” when the little cloud turned into one. My five year old, who can read and write and is starting to shed the little girl inside, nestled into my arm. It was an hour of bliss. It was worth the parking, the potty visits, the wrestling with jackets, and arranging it so everyone could see.
I am not sure that I will ever find that perfect balance. If I will ever get each plate spinning in the air at the right speed at the right time. If I can ever know what to trade off for what.
But I do know that a little dab of SAHM goes a long, long way right now.
*Added note: I couldn’t find a single picture, with an extensive google search, of a woman at the playground or park with her kids, bored out of her mind. The moms in the photos were all ecstatically happy. Every single one. So, either it is just me, or we clearly don’t want to get caught.
