Making Time for Yourself
When my very demanding first child was a baby, my pediatrician warned me, "You need to take time for yourself. I know this baby takes every minute of your time, but you can't let that happen. If you have only ten minutes free each day, use them on something you can do when this child is a teenager and doesn't want you living every moment for her." He believed that mothers who gave up their hobbies, time with their spouses, and even friends to care for a child made bad mothers in the long run. These are the mothers who drive their children crazy by being involved in every moment of their child's life long after such participation is wanted or who come to resent their children.
Together we talked about ways to carve out a few spare moments. He suggested that when I was rocking my colicky baby, I read aloud--not children's books, but my books, reading in a soft gentle voice as if I were talking to my baby. She would enjoy the cuddling and the soothing voice, and I would get to read. When I read her to sleep in her toddler years, I began with two picture books, moved on to a chapter in a children's book, and finally read aloud from the scriptures and science or history books I was studying for my own benefit. (Later, I realized she was listening, when she received twin dolls and named them 1 Nephi and 2 Nephi!)
He also advised me to stop trying to be the perfect Utah woman, encouraging me to buy cookies or use instant anything. He even suggested I drop any friend who expected a spotless house. I was reluctant, since most of the ward was related to my husband and I wanted to make a good impression, but I tried.
Instead of rushing around to clean house when the baby finally went to sleep, I began cleaning while she was awake. I placed her infant seat in the room and sang or talked to her while I worked. Later, I put a small box of toys in each room for her to play with. When she slept, I wrote. When I rocked her, I read. We began taking weekly "field trips" to Temple Square, museums and any other place I wanted to see. I worked hard to help her learn to behave in public so that she was welcome anywhere I wanted to go.
When I had two more children only 16 months apart, I nearly lost my resolve. However, the picture of my future teens hating me for having no life of my own haunted me. I decided, for reasons I no longer remember, that this chaotic time was when I would become a published writer--and accidentally mentioned that goal to someone who made me follow through. When I looked over my busy schedule I realized I could give up television and sleep to find the time, because those were the only moments left. An hour of television disappeared. So did two hours of sleep. I arose at 4:00 AM, when my husband got up for work, and, when he left, I groggily plopped myself in front of the computer. Children were warned that no one interrupted me until 6:00 unless they were dying. If they woke up early, I made them watch television. (Me--making kids watch television? What kind of mother had I become?)
Those quiet hours became my sanity during the chaotic toddler years. Now, with one child an adult, homeschooling essentially done and children too busy with church and friends to want Mom to play with them often, I am glad. I am still writing, still reading, still having a life of my own. Now I write while they study and read scriptures in the chapel while they attend seminary. They are living their lives, I am living mine, and when we come together, we all have different experiences to share.
When they are gone, Mom's identity might change, but her life will already be full.