Scott found me crying on the couch one day. As smart man, he knew to look at the TV. Lately, Murdoch Mysteries (my favourite Canadian mystery show) has been really running the gamut of emotions. But it wasn’t a dramedy causing the tears. It was What Not To Wear. That’s right. Stacy and Clinton brought me to tears. I was working my way through a marathon, and show after show, I was hearing the same thing over and over again: “I just don’t take the time for myself. I’d rather spend the time on the kids”. It seemed just too close to home, for me.
Pretty much any mother who has googled “baby sleep” or “baby schedule” or anything remotely close to those will be familiar with the Baby Whisperer, who posits the best schedule for mom and baby is to follow a routine of Eat — Active — Sleep — You-time. But when you have a baby who catnaps? You get 25 minutes to accomplish, well, pretty much anything. That “You-time”? Doesn’t really happen.
While I’m still dealing with Mommy-Guilt (I had to pep talk myself into leaving C at home with Scott the other night so I could go grocery shopping), I am working on taking 1/2 hour on the weekends when Scott is home to find a quiet, solitary space to read (and I’m trying to offer him the same courtesy). But during the week? I have to set my sights a little lower. After some thought, I came up with the solution
The daily thing I do for myself? I get dressed.
It’s definitely not a big goal but it’s attainable. Some days, like today, it means changing from my pajamas to my workout clothes to my pajamas (but then a workout it required). Other days, it means carefully selecting an outfit, doing my hair and putting on makeup.
The only rule? I can’t resort to jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie two days in a row. Sure, it means my new momiform is jeans, a tank top and a cardigan, but it feels that much fancier, so I feel that much better. Sometimes, it only takes a second or two longer to get dressed, but it definitely is worth it.