(Faux ) Me Time

Kudos to Courtney Wyckoff for coining this phrase and also saving my and so many mama's lives.   Fuax me time is when I know how desperately I need to unplug, unwind, and tune in, but the depth of the need makes the usual ways to do that (sit quietly with tea, meditate, stretch, go for a walk, exercise, journal, play music, write) feel impossibly out of reach.  

Faux me time slips in quietly to fill up those empty spaces that pop up throughout the day and leave me feeling emptier than before.  It's not like I'm fooled.  Its not as if scrolling on Facebook has EVER left me feeling more fulfilled, or that I've never concluded a scroll sesh, shut the computer with satisfaction and moved on to more wholesome and fulfilling activities. 

In part, its the mom-thing of never knowing how much time I'll ACTUALLY have, and being so sick of being interrupted that it hardly feels worth it to bother starting anything.  But there's also the guilt. 

I happen to be very lucky, my partner takes the kiddos downstairs every morning from wake time (Leo: 6-7am, Isabel: 7-8am) until he starts work (usually 9:30).  So, nearly every morning, I have the absolute luxury of sleeping more, catching up on tasks, meditating, doing momma strong, riding the exercise bike.  As long as I stay sequestered in the bedroom, the sky's the limit.  Sometimes the kiddos revolt and start crying and begging for Mama (Leo) or park outside the door, toes peeking under (Isabel).  I usually relent because seriously!?!?  Who can resist toes.  

So all to say: I have NO EXCUSE for not starting each day feeling rested, recharged, ready to go.  BUT.  No.  Here's how it usually goes down.

1. Roll over and grab the computer, scroll FB, check email, read NYT, for as long as possible 

2. Meditate 15 minutes.  I've been working my way up from 5 minutes.  This is a very weird place to be since for about 15 years I meditated 2 hours daily.  But, Mom.  etc.  A friend recently told me that she always meditated during her sons first nap, and did tasks during the second nap.   I felt instant shame.  I think I've done productive and/or self-nurturing things during about 3% of my babies' total naptime.  

3. Do Momma Strong.  Minimum daily requirement.  When I slacked off, I was in so much pain that I felt resentful towards the baby for having to pick him up.  

4. Time permitting--usually at this point I've managed to FB scroll my way right up to 9:10--get on the exercise bike and watch parenting videos.  OK I'm a total geek but these are also life-saving and make me not hate my kids!!  Crucial!  I'm a part of this dorky parenting master class "Academy" thingy and there are weekly (recorded) calls with Julie King and Larry Cohen, two of my all time favorite parenting author/mentor Allstars.  

5.  Whoops, ran out of time! Time for a super quick shower!

Once they hear the shower running, there's usually a stampede to the bathroom where they wait next to the tub for Mama.  

And its off the races.  

I have so many feelings about this situation.  I feel deeply guilty that I get to have this gift of time every morning, and my partner doesn't.  He goes from kiddos straight to work, from work straight to kiddos and then we're both flat out on the couch at 8:30pm.  I know that this situation is doing some serious damage to his mental well being--the endless cycle, never getting a break, 15 hour days, no personal time.  I so want to be the gracious partner who offers to be on for a morning.  BUT I JUST CAN'T.  

The memory of what it felt like to be up every hour (sometimes for an hour) nursing a screaming, thrashing baby, and than follow that by being ON all day with the babies with no breaks and no outside support is too fresh.   

One day last summer, the kids and I were Facetiming with Noah's Mom.  As kid pandemonium reigned around me, she said "Wow, you  are so patient.  I never had that experience since I just had one kid".  I had to stop myself from saying "Actually, its not patience.  I'm just dead inside".  

So, as desperately as Noah needs more free time, I feel terrified of giving up my precious mornings.  And because I feel guilty about it, some sick part of my brain is screaming at me the whole time "Don't enjoy this time too much.  Don't be intentional with this time that you are stealing.  Just let it slip by, just faux me time your way through and then it won't be as unfair".  

Favorite Parts of the Day:

1. Surprise Mama-Isabel time in the morning.  We cuddled like bears, read, played "scream into your mouth", "boo", and "pull the string".  

2. Eating dinner with the babes (Thai Chicken Risotto with roasted green beans)

3. First Irish tune rehearsal with Paul. We definitely hit some good grooves, and Isabel floating through in her shark costume was also hilarious. 

4. Staying inside all day

Least favorite parts of the day:

1. Potential neighbor-teen babysitter backing out

2. Everyone having screaming meltdowns at lunch time. 

3. Leo waking up screaming and thrashing after napping for 30 minutes

4. Bleeding heavily and hormoning heavily all day long. 

5. Staying inside all day. 

Supper's On

Cooking: meal planning, grocery shopping, prepping...and, what would you call that last stage of turning chopped things, oil and heat into a meal...alchemy?  Magic?  Catharsis?  

These have been my salvation during this year of near complete self dissolution/annihilation.  Luckily, in our weird-but-functional family work hierarchy, it counts as being fully Labor Creditable.  

I have been on Leo's Eczema/Allergy diet since he was tested last May, so must make do without: dairy, wheat, eggs, nuts, sesame, soy, sweet potatoes and avocados.  People ask "What do you eat??" and "What do you miss the most?" and "Why don't you just wean?"

Well, I eat: all grains-mainly oats, rice, and millet.  All veg and fruits (except the Avos and Sweet Potatoes).  And, MEAT.  Way more than I ever have before, more than I'd like and I try hard to stick to organic because otherwise, gross.  Snacking easily is what I miss the most, but as someone who leans too heavily on food as an emotional crutch this is probably a good thing.  And no, I would never choose to trade my son's health and well-being for my transient indulgence of food cravings.  Also I love nursing.  

Logistically, menu planning and actual cooking are pretty vital since most of the usual go-to foods are off the table (cheese, bread, eggs, nuts).  But also, thank goodness, because being forced to really COOK, not just eat a cheese sandwich or fry some eggs has literally saved my hide many times over this year.  

On long, lonely, aggravating days, 10 tantrums deep by 12pm (I was going to say, not mine, but TBH things got pretty ugly around June-November....) it is so deeply satisfying to create (and finish one beautiful thing that is just for me.  Bonus points that it happens to benefit the rest of the fam and masquerades as a selfless act of service.  

I feel like a huge liar actually.  

It would be pretty easy to alternate 5 simple recipes that are quick and fairly healthy.  Instead I spend 30-120 minutes each week poring over cookbooks and the NYT cooking website, searching for new, fun, enticing recipes that will generate a week's worth creative joy.  

Grocery shopping is a different kind of indulgence, 60 minutes + driving time where no-one is asking me any questions, demanding that I get them anything, tugging at my clothes, or beating at my breast (my son is shameless in his requests for nursing).  

But THEN,  haha then,  I've thrown my hat over the fence.  The ingredients are sitting right there in the fridge, demanding to be used lest they rot or mold.  So no matter how tired, unmotivated, or emotionally drained I feel now I HAVE to carve out the time to cook.  It often begins with stolen chunks of time,  sneaking downstairs before anyone wakes up to measure out the dry ingredients or chopping the onion while Leo eats his lunch.  But at some point in the day, the rubber meets the road and its time to tune everyone out and get 'er done.  

There are the occasional strike-outs, but gratifyingly, though my kids snub their noses at most leftovers they will eat almost anything that has been freshly prepared.  Yesterday I sat down to mashed butter beans with sautéed garlic broccoli rabe, corn chips on the side.  Today, I served up my bowl of white rice with tomato-chickpea-spinach stew while the chaos continued to reign around me.  

Deep in the belly of the pandemic, when I had stopped doing massage, stopped playing music, stopped climbing, stopped chatting and laughing with other moms, stopped doing pretty much anything at all for myself, these tokens of love and creativity were secret love missives to my dormant self.  

Mommy Blogs

 I guess that's what this is now.  The last month or so (really, since stumbling upon the powerhouse Mama that is Glennon Doyle), I've been craving Mommy Blogs.  Not the ones with lunch box tips, creative craft pinterests, endless lists of product recommendations, and uplifting stories of familial love and gratitude.  

I need to read other Moms talking shit about their own stupid, insane, unbelievably hard/utterly mind-numbing/totally isolating (especially in pandemic blah blah blah) life.  I crave those belly laughs of recognition when the baby is caught playing in his own poop during the 5 minutes you took to take a shower, the validating descriptions of Olympic-level feats that happen unseen and unnoticed on the daily.  Like hauling a kicking, screaming toddler and his plastic grocery cart down the street while pushing the other one in the stroller.  Fitting the toddlers, the cart, and strider + helmet into the wagon while preventing the younger, allergic one from eating the older one's almonds, rescuing the spilled blueberries, and removing the small pinecone from his mouth. 

Yep, I'm looking for a very specific kind of Mommy blog.  I cling to some parenting ideals that often feel just stupid (no sugar, no screens, no punishment) and mostly don't  end up making my life any easier.  And I freaking love my kids, they are beyond brilliant, sweet, hilarious; they are probably my favorite people to hang out with.  

I want to read these blogs (where are they?!?!).  And, as it turns out, it looks like I need to write my own, as well.  

No plan Wednesday

A No Plan Morning....eek!!!   I did my best to surrender to the mind-numbing rhythm after a flurry of desperate, last minute texts to moms and neighbors yielded no fruit.  It helps knowing that busier and more scheduled days are just around the corner: grandparents visiting, playdates--just starting to be a Thing again--soccer, music class).  Such days nearly did me in mid-pandemic, when the delightful spaciousness of Everything Cancelled wore off but before the Alternative, Pandemic Approved plans kicked in.  

Sweet moments that don't happen on those scheduled days are the perk of weathering the stultifying feelings of boredom.  As I stared out the window, Isabel looked at me and said "Mama, what are you doing?"  Then answered her own question, "You're taking care of us".  

Exactly.  

The morning included:  showering (a major trust exercise!/Please don't report me to CPS), and coming out to find the 2 of them playing quietly together on the Living Room floor (whose kids are these??), pumping up the inflatable moose from Aunt Debbie (everyone took a turn), and a 3-block-parade to visit with a neighbor consisting of: massage table-on-a-wagon, Isabel on a strider, Leo pushing a plastic grocery cart.

Then lunch, nursing a very sleepy/sleeping Leo while microwaving Isabel's chicken nuggets.  I'm not quite the mom I thought I'd be, instead I'm so much more.  

baby time

people keep asking me if i like being pregnant.  its a weird question, basically asking if i fundamentally accept the changes happening to my body and mind.  why wouldn't i?  even though i miss my old, lithe, body and its ability to perform (rock climbing, biking, getting into whatever position seemed right, etc) i'm not going to actively resist the truth of this present physical form.  its also cool to have a little rumbly buddy rolling around down there, keeping me company.  The mood swings are formidable at times.  not that different from my usual highs and lows but perhaps more noticeable.  As well this weird, nostalgic permeating sadness washes over me at least a couple of times a week.  i imagine some part of me is nostalgically missing this part of my life, my last weeks as a free-form, autonomous being in the world.  many many changes to come.  

forks and lees

it is so head-trippingly, dizzyingly bizarre to be jolted out of my delightfully magical and deeply satisfying all-encompassing reality and thrust suddenly into the parallel universe of what could have would have been.  i would never trade an instance of this one and yet i can see the simultaneous shimmering beauty of what would have could have been.  and i'm so grateful that no matter where this crazy life path take me, or where i take myself, it is without fail:  deeply satisfying.  intensely challenging. filled with love and laughter and delight and fun and music and food and play.  physical edges. emotional edges.....just a beautiful and irreducible gift.

right now:  pistachio ice cream.  gourmet romantic dinners every night.  and breakfast and lunch.  peels of laughter and sweet faces and rough and tumble and that little cowlick that pops up on those delicate foot switches.  giant thunderstorms and endless bran and every day shocked that this is my life.  and yet and yet and yet.  to find out that in fact it was i that gave up and am giving it up and the confusion of that just won't fit with the beauty of here now bounty.