For the past couple of weeks my dear Hunk has been giving me a few hours to go out by myself. Whilst he stays home and tends to the children (what a quaint little statement that is) I go out.
The key here is I go out by MYSELF. No kids, no husbands, nothing. Just me and the radio. Oh, the FREEDOM!
Can I tell you that the first “mommy’s morning out” I was scared out of my wits? Yes, I’ll admit it–I’m a grown woman who was scared to go out of her house by herself.
I felt naked without the huge diaperbag/purse I always carry. I felt like something was missing the entire time I was out. Like I had forgotten something really important.
What is wrong with me?
I’ve come to the realization that what’s wrong with me is that somewhere almost four years ago I left myself behind to dive head first into the world of motherhood (was that a run-on sentence or what? too bad I’m keeping it). The moment I held that sweet little baby boy for the first time I was consumed with the deepest most intense love I’ve ever felt. All I wanted to do was be a good mom to this tender little life I’d been given.
Which is all well and good. BUT (there’s always a “but” isn’t there?) a good mom is a whole mom.
And I wasn’t a whole mom, folks. Not even close. I’ve realized this over the past few months. I was running out of steam. I was getting impatient with my children. I was getting frustrated constatly at my husband. I was all around a very unpleasant person to be around. This added to the stresses we were facing as a family and things weren’t so good (as I’m sure you’ve gathered from all my depressing posts lately…..and the lack of posts even).
I’ve known for awhile that I’ve needed some time to myself. Some time to figure out who I am, again. Time- to refresh myself and my attitude.
I don’t know if I was afraid to ask for some time to myself or if I was feeling like I didn’t deserve it. I think it was a mixture of both. And a bit of not wanting to admit to anyone, myself even, that I really couldn’t do it all. Admiting that I need help has never been my strength.
Well, as you’ve already gathered I somehow found the guts to ask my dear Hunk if I could have a few hours to myself on his days off. And much to my surprise and delight, he said yes.
The first morning was awful. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I ended up wandering around a few stores like a lost puppy. It was pathetic, let me tell you.
The second morning I was better prepared. I had an appointment set to get my hair cut. Then I planned to buy myself a new outfit. It was lovely.
I’m thinking my third morning will be even more wonderful.
The best part is I’ve been more patient with my kids. I’ve been more patient with my husband. I’ve felt happier than I have in a long time, refreshed even. Each time I went out I’ve come back so happy to see my family again. I feel less weighed down by life. And the best part: I’m slowly regaining some confidence in myself as a woman. I think I’ve buried myself under the guise of “perfect mother” for so long that I forgot what it was to be a woman. I forgot that motherhood was only a small piece of the womanly pie.
So I will continue on this journey. I think I’ve finally learned that having some time to myself, for myself, is a priority I need to make time for. Lucky for me, my husband has noticed the change in me and realizes I need this too.
And who knows…maybe one of these times I’ll meet myself.