HTT - TME Edition

Today’s Hot Topic comes from a reader who hoped to draw upon the amazing mom-power that turns out for this weekly spectacle to help resolve an issue that is causing some tension in her household. (I guess it’s not revealing to say that her husband is a little clueless about the whole thing as that may or may not apply to a large percentage of us.)

Her dilemma is simple: She loves being a mom, but sometimes she needs a break. No, this isn’t SAHM v. WOHM II. She doesn’t want a job. She doesn’t want a new life. She doesn’t even want a vacation – actually, she probably wants one because who doesn’t?

She just needs some TME (Time for Me).

This is where I wax poetic about the virtues of solitary time and healing properties of occasional pampering. Where I talk about how I’ve perfected the balance of motherhood and womanhood. Where I go on and on about how I know everything and --

I know nothing. I totally have this same problem. As you may be aware, I have a mom crush on Miss Dub, but I still get physically fatigued and mentally exhausted from being a mother – and sometimes I just get bored. I want a break, I crave a break, I dream of a break … but I don’t often give myself a break for umpteen reasons.

A lot of the time it’s sheer laziness – the hassle of getting a babysitter and then coming up with something worth the cash and effort. Other times I feel too guilty to ask Mr. Dub to watch our little one after a long day or week of work. But most of the time, I don’t go because even when I’m away, I’m not taking a break.

If we see a movie, I check my phone to see if the babysitter has called. I’m eager for dinner to be done so I can get back and make sure that she ate enough herself. I wonder if she’s getting the specific treatment she prefers. And I just plain miss her … until we get home and see she’s fine, at which point I want to run back to the restaurant and order dessert and a (non-alcoholic) nightcap.

This reader feels the same or worse, as she’s got two kids to worry about while away. But she wants, nay, NEEDS, a few hours to herself or as a couple every now and then.

So, oh wise ones, what say ye?

How do you like to escape and enjoy yourself?

Where do you go?

What do you do … or wish you could do?

And how do you truly enjoy yourselves?

Help!

Meet that mom

Princess Dub dons her crown

As you know, I really thought I wasn’t going to be that mom.

You know, that mom who is so coddling and controlling that she can’t bear to leave baby with a babysitter until she’s 12. Or that mom who is so undisciplined that she resorts to throwing baby in the car seat to lull her to sleep. Or that mom who loses her patience, thinks negative thoughts about her own child and declares to her husband, “When do I get a day off?”

But it dawned on me this weekend that despite my best efforts, I am that mom … which is a sad realization of a personality I desperately don’t want to have, but mostly a better understanding of that mom’s sheer humanity.

For example, Saturday was the first time we’ve left Miss Dub with a babysitter EVER. And did I mention she’s EIGHT months old today?

I’ve got a ton of justifications: “There are no good movies to see!” Or, “She’s so easy to schlep along!” And some real reasons, like I’ve just been too lazy to find a babysitter. Like, I have to drive 20 minutes just to pick up the young woman from church who lives closest to us. And, like, the going rate for a babysitter is $8-$10 an hour, which seriously, seriously makes me wish I’d joined a babysitter’s union when I had the chance. (And I didn’t.)

But the real reason is I’m a softy. I hate the thought of a crying, lonely or confused Miss Dub. I hate the thought of a poor teenager trying to calm down a screaming infant who’s never been left with a babysitter because her mom is totally paranoid. Because I really hate the thought of Miss Dub getting hurt or neglected because some 13-year-old is too busy texting some guy who doesn’t even like her and still wets his bed.

However, I bit the bullet and got the babysitter – who didn’t even bring a cell phone or make any mention of an incontinent crush. And it was great. We saw a movie. We got some lunch. We enjoyed life sans sippy cups. And I only thought about Miss Dub every 10 minutes or so, which is pretty good considering I’m that mom.

Then yesterday, I decided to give up my endless struggle to convince Miss Dub to sleep during church and/or do anything besides making scary Darth Vader sounds at the top of her lungs. (Her new favorite trick.) So rather than spend all of church in the mother’s lounge, I took her for a drive during Sunday School. She slept soundly throughout the final hour, and I got some much-needed spiritual nourishment. But I felt a little guilty; like I had cheated. And at church nonetheless!

Miss D’s happy streak ended, however, when we got home and it was time for another nap. The struggle to get her to not crawl around her crib Nascar-style combined with her increased whininess and my general fatigue created monsoon Mom conditions, which took me from frustrated to ticked in a flash. Suddenly, visions of a stubborn 7-year-old pitching a fit for a toy in Target filled my mind. And I honestly wondered what I had gotten myself in to. I honestly wondered if I had it in me to rear one child, much less a few more.

And then I tried to make Italian meatloaf for dinner and rather than risk a series of ailments including salmonella, I had to toss it. And that happens way more than I or my inner Ina would really want.

This time, visions of all the meals I would have to prepare flooded me: All the shopping, all the chopping, all the mental strain to think of something to make when the cupboards get bare. And I thought to myself, “When do I get a day off?” "When do I get to sleep in?"

"When did I turn into that mom?"

Because, my friends, that mom is human. That mom gets tired. That mom gets frustrated. That mom wishes bladder control issues on her imaginary babysitter. And that mom just does her best to try and be anything but that mom.

But unfortunately there’s a little bit of that mom in all of us. I just got a heartier helping of it.

The real question for you to ponder, however, is how much do you pay your babysitters? Because I opted for around $8, and I need to know if that was cheap.

Now that is something to think about.