I have a confession to make.
Well, a few confessions.
First, my shower curtain is filthy with soap residue, spray tan solution, and nasty mold.
It needs to be burned, for health reasons, but I’m going to bleach it in the washing machine instead. That saves me a few bucks and a thirty minute trip to a headache inducing dollar store.
The tile in my bathroom and kitchen is so funky it doesn’t even resemble it’s original color. The grout’s definitely a goner and sister, you may have dust bunnies, but I have tumbleweeds cause nobody has swept in weeks.
The carpet in our family room needs professional help.
Looking back, the beige swag wasn’t such a swell idea.
There are so many stains on that carpet that it is beginning to look like abstract art.
So, yeah, that carpet should also be burned with the shower curtain, but guess what?
I’m not going to do it.
And do you know why?
No, it’s not because I’m lazy.
Well, not entirely because I’m lazy.
I just need a break.
Every Mom Needs A Break!
Now I’m not saying I’m going on strike or abandoning my responsibilities.
I’m not that Mom.
I love all three of my children and making them happy makes me happy. My kids will get to all of their dance lessons, show choir practices, voice lessons, therapy appointments, speech schools, and gymnastic lessons on time, fed, and dressed somewhat appropriately.
What I’m saying is that I am going to stop allowing the minutiae of everyday life keep me from having fun, too. I’ve decided to give myself permission to step away from the piles of dirty clothes, mismatched shoes, and the random toys scattered about my home and catch up on the Real Housewives without feeling guilty.
The world will not end if our beds go unmade, the dishes stay dirty, or our endless flow of laundry goes unfolded.
But I might go insane if my adult interaction is limited to the conversations I have in my head.
I have started talking to myself in public.
It happened at grocery store yesterday, and I’m fairly confident that I scared the hell out of a family looking at birthday cakes.
They thought I was legit crazy.
I think I may be losing my mind.
And if Mom loses it, the kid’s future looks pretty bleak.
I mean, my husband is a great guy and all, but, for the most part the man is clueless.
So, I figure I need to make a little time for me.
To do whatever I want to do.
Dinner with friends? Hell yes! Sounds like fun!
Binge watch Netflix? I’m in.
Catch up on reading? Perfect.
Do absolutely nothing? Why yes, thank you.
Like I said, I am giving myself permission to take a break and I don’t care what anyone thinks. (I’m looking at you, Judgy Moms.)
Why can’t we give each other the go ahead to have fun?
Fun for us as women, not Moms.
Not, look at what I found to do on Pinterest fun.
Not, let’s take our kids to the zoo this weekend fun.
And not, let’s all go for a hike and dig for fossils fun. (No offense if that’s what you’re into, I just don’t care to sweat all that much.)
I’m talking about the kind of fun you have with your girlfriends when you laugh so hard you pee a little, and you don’t care who knows or if you have soiled your new pants from Ann Taylor Loft because you are out of the freaking house, and you are enjoying life as an individual kind of fun.
Or the kind of fun you have when you are all alone reading, writing, or crafting and you feel a sense of renewal or accomplishment.
Do you realize that as Moms we facilitate everyone’s joy but our own?
We schedule activities, fairs, parties, dinners, camps, and other festivities for our kids, and we leave ourselves behind.
You know I’m right.
What’s one of the first questions you ask them when you pick them up from one of these events?
“Did you have fun?”
When was the last time you asked yourself that question?
That’s what I thought.
Recently I flew to Las Vegas and, as usual, I was one of the only passengers paying attention to the safety briefing.
“In case of a loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks above your seat will deploy, please place the mask first and then assist your child or other passengers”
Think about that rule.
It’s so simple, really.
We cannot help those around us if we do not help ourselves first.
Now think about how this applies to mothers.
We put everyone first, before we secure our masks.
We deprive ourselves of oxygen.
We cannot breathe.
We feel suffocated.
So how do we fix it?
Put on your oxygen mask, Mama!
Do something you love today before you dive into the chore list from hell!
Make plans to have dinner with friends at least once a month and don’t you dare cancel because you’re too busy! You need oxygen!
Give yourself a guilt free Slacker Saturday! Surely your hubby can manage the kids so you can indulge in doing absolutely nothing.
Take the long way home and ride around listening to your favorite songs over and over.
Barricade the bathroom door and take a bath.
Go to the spa.
Do whatever you need to do to relax, recharge, and breathe in that oxygen!
The chores can wait.
Moms, how do you put your oxygen mask on? Let me know in the comments!