Are you there, God? It’s me, mom. For Mother’s Day, can I please be left alone?
I had the dream again. The one where my hands go cold and my heart starts pounding. I feel like that alien from the Alien movies is going to pop out of my chest, but when I look down it turns out to be a stack of dirty dishes and a list of overdue homeschooling assignments. Weird, right? Because I totally turned in the assignment for my 6-year-old that I wrote with my non-dominant hand. When I wake up, I realize that was no dream— it was yesterday.
When the lockdown started, I was calm
As an introvert, I was ready to rock this whole "staying at home all day" thing. At our house, it was going to be one long pajama day followed by home-delivered pizza wiped down with hand sanitizer. (I’m joking about hand sanitizing our pizza. Amazon has been out of that stuff for months.) I felt lucky to have a place to be with the people I loved.
Then I realized our schedule was relentless — and I couldn’t reschedule it
Along with running out of toilet paper faster than we ever had, it became clear our new way of being together was draining me in ways I hadn’t imagined. There’s an isolating and hurried monotony to our routine. It reminds me of how I felt with my newborn.
I loved my new baby, but my soul needed time away from being needed so entirely. I stole moments in the bathroom while peeing to take a break. Back then, my little guy lacked the fine motor skills to pick the lock while mom was picking up her underwear, but thanks to that magician’s set from last Christmas, my kid is a lock-picking professional. Lego-building emergencies are real, folks.
I’ve always been the ultimate fountain of knowledge for our crew and so there are constant questions to be answered, upcoming meals to be discussed, and homeschooling problems to be solved. Now, my peeps have access to me 24/7, like never before. I’m like a 7-Eleven store of motherly information. I never planned on needing time to be socially distant from the people that I’m socially distancing with.
I love my family, but after two months of nonstop, constant, every-single-day love, I’d love a moment to call my own. When I ask for that time, I don’t get it.
More to the point, my family doesn’t get it
My time to recharge is interrupted. They need me to find their lost fork or the drawer it lives in. My mom guilt motivates me to help, and that task leads to another and another — and suddenly, it’s bedtime.
I keep telling them that some time alone will only make me a more patient and awesome person. I give of myself all day, so why can’t they give me a little break to rejuvenate? My disappointment kicks in hard when this doesn’t happen because I’d love to feel heard and valued. I’d certainly have more “me time” in my “me time.”
Maybe we just need a little practice ... so why not practice on Mother’s Day?
Generally, I prefer a Mother’s Day spent with family because it’s a day our schedules are guaranteed to match. But this year, I’m guaranteed to see my family every day, so I’m wondering if I can ask for a different gift. My family can skip the burnt toast in bed and give me the gift of some true alone time this Mother’s Day. And maybe a deadbolt lock for the bathroom door.
