I’m usually not much of a New Year’s resolution person. I live a life of moderation – I eat kale, but I also eat full fat dairy. I work, but I also stay home a few days a week. I watch a little TV, scroll Instagram a few times a day, and on days when my kids are particularly trying, I end my day with a glass of wine on the couch with my husband. My life feels pretty balanced most of the time. Resolutions in a traditional sense have always felt a bit extreme to me. I know myself well enough at this point to know that I’ll never stick to a diet or an exercise routine, so why set myself up to fail?
This year feels a little different. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that it’s a new decade or that my husband and I have been married nearly 10 years or if I’m just entering a new season of life, but I can feel this stirring inside that I cannot ignore. My children are almost 5 and 2 and now regularly play independently without needing my undivided attention. Ellie is getting ready to start Kindergarten and Owen will likely start preschool next year. I’m in a place where for the first time in half a decade, I have a little time for myself. The problem is that I am not really sure I can remember who I am or what brings me joy outside of being a mama.
What I’m beginning to fear is losing myself in the midst of motherhood. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I spent 20 years of my life packing lunches and driving kids to school and cheering on sports games and that I lost myself somewhere in the process. Motherhood is a huge part of my identity, but it is not my sole identity. And yet I’ve noticed a pattern over the last 5 years or so. When “free time” presents itself, I’m much more apt to clean the house, fold a basket of laundry, turn on the T.V. or scroll social media – none of which bring me joy. These things are anesthetizing. Motherhood is so exhausting that I often find that when I find a moment to myself, I want to numb out. This is what has been gnawing at me and where I feel a rumbling to change.
This didn’t miraculously come about with the turning of the new year – it’s something that I’ve been thinking about for a long time. I started a Bible study this year that is different than so many other Bible studies I have done. For the first time in my life, I’m beginning to prioritize and even yearn for quiet moments with God. I started a routine of getting up 30 minutes before the rest of my house to spend some time sipping coffee and talking to God. I’ve seen how making a small change to my daily routine can affect me in such a deep way and I think that’s really how it starts.
My husband is the king of hobbies. After the kids go to bed, he’ll often head outside to work on one of his antique cars or he’ll use a nap-time to refinish a piece of furniture. I often envy him – he knows exactly what brings him joy and he has found ways to still make time for those things. He’s no less active in the lives of our children or in keeping up with the house than I am and yet he has these wonderful hobbies that keep him learning and keep him busy. That’s what I feel like I’m missing.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the things that brought me joy before I had kids – and really that still bring me joy when I make time and space for them in my life. I love to cook, I love to write, I love to spend time with my friends, and I love to do yoga. Many of these things are simple and there are practical ways to incorporate them into my daily life, but to be honest, parenthood has stolen a lot of the joy I used to get from these hobbies. What I love about yoga is a dark room where I can breathe and focus and connect. That’s lost when trying to fit in a quick yoga practice in the living room during nap-time. What I love about cooking is the opportunity to be creative and experiment with new flavors. I really love to cook for other people, but unfortunately, the humans I cook for everyday often don’t appreciate “new flavors” and either have to be bribed to eat it or require a vat of ketchup. Much of my time spent with friends has become playdates where conversations are interrupted with toddler pleas for help in the bathroom or breaking up a fight over a Magna Tile. And at the end of a long day of keeping humans alive, I often feel tired, drained, and uninspired to write. I don’t say any of this to sound pessimistic or ungrateful, but I think it’s important to consider the root of what’s keeping you from the things that you love so you can actually address them. That’s where I am now.
I don’t expect to fix this overnight, but I know that if I don’t begin making small changes now, I could wake up one day and realize there’s not much “me” left. Some of these hobbies fit into some of my longer-term goals like writing a book and becoming certified to teach yoga. If I don’t start prioritizing these things now, I may never see these goals realized. I’m not just doing this for me, I’m doing it for my children. I want them to see their mom as more than mom. I want them to know that I value myself as much as I value them. And so I’m going to try to start spending less time watching T.V. and scrolling Facebook and start writing more (look for more regular blogs!). I’m going to use Christmas money on yoga classes instead of new clothes I don’t need. I’m going to start cooking new recipes every week, even if no one else will eat it (more leftovers for me, right?!). And I’m going to start prioritizing time with my friends – even if it means just a phone call after kids are in bed.
I’m going to try to find myself again.
Can you relate? What did you used to love doing before you were a parent? Has parenthood stolen some of that joy? Have you figured out strategies to bring those things back to your life? I’d love to hear from you!
Life After Birth 