I have a hard time justifying me-time these days. Take today: I worked a freelance job at a magazine office and my mom watched JD because he doesn't attend school on Tuesdays. I left my condo at 7:15 AM and didn’t return until 7 PM. But, I didn’t work until 7 or even 6. I did something for me before going home—well, sorta. See…
My friend and JD’s Godmother, Katie lives in my building. She actually lives right below us and occasionally (always?) here’s the pitter-patter (bang-boom?) of JD’s feet. She’s also a hair stylist at a fancy salon in NJ and does hair at fashion shows, too. And she also cuts my hair, that until 6:30 PM last night was approaching my belly button. Now, my hair is wavy and curls up if I let it air-dry so it didn’t look that long, but, yeah, it was and my layers were grown out and I had, had, had (blushing) split ends. So, I texted Katie during the day, knowing my mom was watching JD and asked her to trim my hair. Of course she said yes and then I spent the rest of the day feeling bad about not going straight home to my child and contemplated canceling the appointment.
But, I didn’t. There was no other time to do it. Our upcoming weekend is filled with soccer, zoo, beach (groceries, errands and JD stuff!)...So, I got a trim right downstairs from my home and I heard the pitter-patter (bang-boom!!! DAMN) of JD’s feet up above me while Katie cleaned me up and we chatted about life and how I want to take the LSTATs and write a screenplay (I.have.the.best.idea.omg) and live by the ocean in a pink house. It was a blissful...fifteen minutes. I kid you not, fifteen minutes. I didn’t even let her wash my hair—she just sprayed it down and cut. And then I ran up the stairs to my kiddo. I ate some leftover ziti and broccoli, we talked about the airplane ride he went on with my mom (from the couch), played blocks, ate ice cream (JD did), gave him a shower, read some books about dinosaurs, school and a pig planting a garden and then I tucked him in.
And wondered if I spent enough time with my kid today. I did not. Guilt. Sinking guilt.
Five more things that recently brought on mom guilt:
- Told JD he needed to have quiet time on Sunday afternoon, so I could (lay in my bed) and watch 48 Hours: The Untold Amanda Knox story on my computer. Really.
- Drank two (2.5?) glasses of red wine at a family party at the Essex Fells country club on Saturday afternoon and had to have a family member drive JD and me home (I’m a light-weight and I don’t drink and drive ever) while I sang along to 80’s on 8...and told JD drinking is bad. (Should note: Indulged because I knew there were a handful of people to drive us home. And I never drink and have fun like that.)
- Spent $80 dollars on a pair of black trousers from J.Crew—but they’re a really good fit.
- Checked emails via my Blackberry while I was supposed to be watching some “cool cartoon” with JD. Wait, I always do this.
- Tell JD, “it’s still nighttime” when really it’s 6 AM on a Saturday or Sunday. I basically do this every weekend.
What was the most recent thing you did that made you feel the burn of “mom-guilt?” Share! Release it...you'll feel extra guilty once the Internet knows. Promise!