On My Time

If you are late for a meeting, are you worried? If you are late for an appointment, are you concerned with how your tardiness is going to affect the schedule of the rest of everyone else’s day? If you are taking too long in the grocery store line, turning left, using an ATM, ordering food, or anywhere people may queue up behind you, do you feel like you should be rushing?

What about if you are late for a playdate? Trying to go anywhere as a parent feels like trying to run in quicksand. Or with bags of rocks weighting you down, which are actually the diaper bag, the food bag, the beach blanket, the bikes, the extra clothes in case someone gets wet or pees their pants, the “Oh shit!” emergency towel, and you are probably carrying at least one actual human as well as you struggle to the carseats. I used to pride myself on how punctual I was, and now I feel like I am always late for everything and I hate it. I am now that person I used to be annoyed at. I am much less annoyed at people now, especially those who are also toting about a bunch of children. When I make plans with other parents, I try to give a window of time, instead of an exact arrival point. I try to reassure them that if the morning or the night hasn’t gone their way, they can cancel without guilt (that goes for non-parents as well). It can be so hard some days just to leave the house. But sometimes I have to, otherwise I will be climbing the walls. Or in a straight jacket.

My husband is constantly telling me to slow down. It’s usually because I am bumping into the corners of the countertops or the furniture or pinching my fingers in the drawers trying to get things in or out too quickly. I walk fast, I talk fast, I like to do things fast. I do enjoy a good slow down, like a bath or a book, often enjoyed together. A long cup of tea shared with a friend. Most of the time, I am trying to squeeze every minute of productivity or enjoyment out of my days. This isn’t new. When I was in high school and finally got my driver’s license, I had the privilege of the use of one of the family cars. The freedom! What did my 17 year old self choose to do with this good fortune? Instead of sleeping in and rolling into school right before the bell, twice a week I would get up an extra hour before my choir practice (about 6:00am) and usually beat the maintence team to the front door. It wouldn’t shock anyone to know I was usually the only student inside for hours. Now, getting in some extra study or reading time was probably more about me escaping what was going on at home or just trying to find some silence to myself, but whatever the reason, I liked being able to control what I did with my time.

I have always loved that about being an adult: choice. I live in a free country where as a woman, I can vote, drive, work, go to school, or not. Being able to go anywhere at any time and choose what I spend my leisure time on is just the best. Or at least it was. Freedom, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.

Not having the choice about what I do with my time is one of the things I find the hardest about being a parent. When I wake up in the morning, my mind is no longer free to wonder what I am going to do with my day. Of course before I had kids I was working regularly, and I was also setting an alarm for 5:45am so I could get to a HIIT class a few times a week (I do miss working out but definetly not at that hour), it wasn’t like I had 7 days a week to be fancy free. Now though, I feel like I was wasting all those free days. What was I doing?! Why was I not writing a novel on the weekends or in the evenings? Or brushing up on my French? Taking pottery classes, going to more concerts, starting a business, travelling more. There is no point in looking back, but certainly I can learn from it for the future.

Unless my very sweet husband gives me time to sleep in or have a few waking hours to myself, which he does often even though he usually works 6 days a week, my weekend is the same as my weekdays. When I wake up, it’s because someone is chatting on one of the two baby monitors we have on in our rooms all night long. The other night, our son was inconsolably upset because his butt was itchy at 11:15pm, so I had to trouble shoot that and then tell a very long story about a robin going on adventures until he calmed down. He thrashed for another hour next to me before I excused myself back to my own room at 1:15am. Not choosing when you get to sleep or for how long is also not great.

I am lucky enough to have some very helpful in-laws around to help with my kids and I am so grateful for them. You parents who do this all on your own all the time, I honestly don’t know how you’re not all insane. With two kiddos and two schedules, I have one 3 hour period a week that I can really count on to myself where I am not cleaning up all the toys and dishes from the day or getting ready to crash into bed. I’m not saying I don’t get more than that, it’s just not a guarantee. So when that time rolls around, ooooohhhh is it precious. And when I get time that is unexpected? It’s like a present! I will do anything to protect that time. I will tell peole I am busy, that I can’t make plans then. And I am! I have to treat that time like an appointment with myself, because it is arguably more important than the dentist appointment I am supposed to make. If I skip the dentist, I might get a few cavities, or worst case, lose a tooth. If I skip all my mental health time, I might lose myself.

I saw a social media post the other day that was something like “Q: Do you feel guilty for taking time to do things for yourself away from your family? A: No, I feel guilty when I am a cunt to them because I haven’t had any space” (I wish I could credit the source, but I was scrolling, and thus, it is lost. All I can say is that it wasn’t mine). As a parent, I may not get to do things on my time very often any more, but when I can, I do, so that I can be a better version of myself for my family, even if it’s hard for everyone when I am away (or just locked in the bathroom for 10 minutes), because it will be so much harder for everyone if I don’t. So don’t be a cunt, and give yourself some space.