The sigh of relief I release when I sink into the vinyl seats of my truck after dropping off the last kid isn't just audible; it's PALPABLE. Depending on the day, and what my wallet is looking like, I calculate the amount of time I can spend going to get myself a coffee and sipping it in my car before motherhood drags me back into it's clutches. My dad watches Daxius while I drop off the girls so he can eat breakfast and not have to sit through the cross town drive. Lately, as the contents of my wallet thin out, my sneaking off for a coffee has been non-existent.
A couple of days without that morning frappe, (nothing extravagant, we're talking McDonald's, not Starbucks), and the pressure seemed a bit heavier. I've been dealing with so much stress, day in and day out, and it just seemed to be piling on. Without my daily guilty pleasure, things just looked bleak. To be honest, over the course of several months, I was over-eating, over-feeling, sometimes not even being able to make it into the shower to wash the day away. The fact that I didn't even have the money for something as simple as a daily coffee was depressing the shit out of me. Then to go immediately home after the 15 minute drive between my house and Jamila's school to Daxius' smiley face but clingy fingers, was dragging me down. I love seeing Dax, but good God, is he capable of being with anyone but me? He's impatiently patient; he lies in wait.
One morning, I came home after taking the girls to school and instead of being greeted at the door by Daxius' eager smiling face, the house was silent. I could hear him giggling upstairs to Cocomelon with my dad and I don't think anyone had noticed I came home yet. I took a seat at the kitchen island and just surfed Tiktok for a while; wondering simultaneously what I was going to eat for breakfast. Last week I decided to switch things up and instead of my usual turkey, I got roast beef. With nothing to lose, I broke out the bread and got to sandwich building.
In less than a minute, I was making art. I got motivated by something deep in me; maybe it was the resounding quiet. I broke out the bread, added multiple slices of cheese and roast beef, which was RARE for me. I usually take one slice of meat and cheese and call it a day. I cut tomatoes, sprinkled salt, put spinach, and spread butter. I dragged out my largest coffee mug, put a K-Cup into the coffee machine I rarely used, and let it fill. Insert creamer and sugar, pressed the sandwich and I had a simple breakfast that was built for the Gods. This thing was perfect.
I wished I had more time to enjoy it, but knowing at any moment, Daxius could come bounding down the stairs, ready to ruin my "Me Time".
Wolfing down the last of my sandwich, I felt guilty. My father was upstairs with my son, who wanted nothing more than to be in my arms, happily suckling away, and it made me sick. I just want my body back.
I've always laughed in the face of self-care. I don't have time to do my hair, or the money really. Same goes for nails. Shit, I do my eyebrows four times a year, maybe, and that's a good year. I don't use facial care products, I don't deep condition my hair, and I dont take bubble baths. Could that be the reason for my perpetual unhappiness? If you look better, you feel better, but I looked like a mom with three kids, who needed help like no one's business.
I started making that sandwich every day this week. I can't be stopped. Squeezing in those 20 minutes a day to myself to make that sandwich and sip some coffee has honestly saved my sanity and probably my children. My hair is still in a messy bun, sure, and my nails are not something I want on display, of course, but the few minutes I take daily to make my breakfast are all the self care I need right now.
It took me time to realize that what I want and what I need are not the same thing. I want time to go do my nails and hair. I want to go have some retail therapy, and eat whatever I want without gaining a pound. I want to hit up the movies, go to a candy shop, eat decadent food, and have date night. I want to do things that allow me to be free. But more than any of those things, I want to sit at home, play games, shirk responsibilities, and take long showers.
Now in reality, my funds are tight, I'd rather watch a movie from my bed anyway, I can't eat candy due to sensitive teeth, decadent food will make me gain weight, and I don't have a date. I won't be free for a long time because I'm still in the clutches of my children, the youngest being still a year old. But I didn't need all those things.
What I needed was time to feel like a person again. I needed time to be alone with my thoughts without the squeal of a child or the pressure of parenting
I've spent the past five years changing diapers, breastfeeding, being pregnant, losing sleep, and watching life past me by while I made the appropriate sacrifices for my family. That's not the problem, because sacrificing for my kids is something I signed up for. But I didn't sign up for losing myself, which is something way too many people think is synonymous with parenting. So find a favorite and quick meal or drink you can make. Take a couple of extra minutes in the bathroom. Find the little things you like. Self-care can mean anything you want it to be; you just have to find out what it means to you.
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