I’ve been a stay at home mama for four years and almost 9 months now – because that’s how old Julian is. In that time, I haven’t done a whole lot for myself. I’ve worked out at home every now and then, I go out with friends occasionally, but overall I don’t spend much time on my own. Actually, almost never. Yesterday I was treated to an afternoon at a spa by my friends, and on my way home I had a one second panic attack because for a split second I thought that I had left my backpack somewhere – which I didn’t bring in the first place because there was no need to carry around coloring books and tissues and toy trains.
My children’s needs are changing. We’ve been done nursing for more than a year now, no more diapers, no more babies. The boys are growing, they are big, loud kids, but also still kind of needy.
That said, I just signed up for a gym membership. It took quite a bit of convincing from myself to myself on behalf of myself, because after years of never carving out any space for myself, I don’t know how to do it anymore without a lingering feeling of guilt.
And that’s ridiculous. Other women go to work every day, and they are good mothers. Others hire babysitters and sit in a coffee shop, and they are good mothers. Even in writing these words, I’m justifying my decision to do something for myself. It’s a little crazy.
But I’m excited! Arthur did fine in the gym’s childcare facility. He cried off and on, but the caregiver read all three Star Wars books to him that I had packed, he had a snack, and when I picked him up he told me in a very level-headed way that he was “just a little bit mad” that I had left him there. I’m sure it’s a work in progress. And maybe it will even help him ease into pre-school later on this year. We told Julian about the play space, and he is now begging to go, too.
I’m so excited about this new chapter. Bring it, 2016!