Skip to main content

Real moms sometimes (often) vacuum as escapism


Caught white handed.


Every day I vacuum the hard floors downstairs. With two Big Personality kids (I cite the photo displayed as evidence), multiple pets, and the way traffic flows here, it's necessary.

Plus, I like vacuuming. I call it my Zen time. The white noise soothes me and focuses part of my brain---the anxiety part that requires some level of tune-out-able noise all the time---so the rest of it can think peacefully.

The noise isn't so soothing to the rest of the family: children and pets hustle and hide until I put the vacuum away. In fact, the mere mention of cleaning causes my entire family to scatter like dandelions.

Now you know my diabolical plan for alone time.

One morning, I was vacuuming along and decided to do a bit upstairs as well. I chose the kids' playroom. As I began, I remembered I'd been meaning to vacuum my own room, especially over by the dog bed (it's allergy season so best to keep things as dust, dirt and pet dander free as possible, especially where I sleep). My immediate next thought was, "Yeah, but there's no time and really, yeah, ewwww, the kids' room has to be done, it's so gross...what is that green stuff gooed on the carpet, anyway?"

Then a strange little voice in my head whispered, "Yes, but what about you?"

Yes, what about me?

I know the airlines always say put your oxygen mask on first before putting it on your child but seriously...who among you is sure that's what you'd do?

Me? Not so much.

I have a habit of saying, "Yes, yes, I'll get to fun/self-care/etc. as soon as I accomplish...(whatever it is that needs doing to hold back the chaos tide)."

Clearly "care for self first" is not very well ingrained into my brain. I also clearly don't comprehend the "you can't care for others very well unless you care for yourself first" concept. At least, I don't accept it as "okay."

However, the concept that it is my obligation to sacrifice myself on the altar of mommyhood is well ingrained in my brain---no matter how often I espouse the virtue of balance...no matter how often I encourage myself and other moms to put the oxygen mask on yourself first.

Thus, as I cleaned---cleaned for the public and the family---I realized, this is what I do: others and family first, me last, if there's any time left over, and really, is there ever?

What else in life, besides cleaning, reflects this priority list? Suffice it to say, upon reflection, this is pretty SOP.

So I steal time. For example, I sneak in TiVo'd shows or blog while the kids rest, or stay up too late doing Something For Me and cheat myself of sleep. I transform wants into needs, justify things as "must dos" in order to accept not doing in that same time slot the things I consider "should dos."

I'm sure this is typical. I have many friends and we all say things like, "My hair's a mess...hasn't seen scissors in six months!" and "I keep meaning to visit my doctor for a checkup but can't find the time!" and "What I wouldn't do for one day..."

When we do something fun for ourselves, we laugh, often defiantly, sometimes maniacally, and are frequently unrepentent, "I deserve this time away!" we tell one another defensively. We each nod to the other and say, "You go girl!"

Inside, though, too often we're wondering what we'll return home to find, and worrying about what we left.

Whichever road we take, we feel the other behind us, and it frequently invokes some guilt.

The irony is, inside I still feel self-centered. I still get irritated or frustrated when I scheduled time to accomplish something for me and it gets bumped. This "me last" concept isn't natural...it simply is how I think I must triage. And I don't do it very gracefully.

I'm happy to do mom and wife, friend and daughter, sister and relative. Once in a while, though, I need to be just Julie: unencumbered, not flush with the guilt of choosing a want over a need, myself over my kids, or something else I feel I ought to be doing instead.

And I'd rather not get the Big Mom Guilt Trip from my beloveds just because I do choose me for an hour here or there.

I know this is unreasonable to some degree. I'm not even sure that when the kids are 40 they will be able to accept me as a person. I watch adults cringe at totally normal grown-up activities their parents engage in after the nest is empty. We may grow up, we may understand, but at the end of the day...they're still the parents, and we're still the children. It's a lifetime role, is parent. That means a degree of self-sacrifice for the rest of my life.

I'm okay with that.

Still, life needs that balance, and five plus years and two kids into the job, I'm still trying to find my footing.

I talk the talk. But if I'm honest?

Still not walking the walk.

But I am vacuuming. I vacuum, therefore I think. I think, therefore I try. I try to keep up with my "me activities." I work on caring for myself, and I endeavor to communicate my needs and ask when I need help. I do my best to not feel guilty.

Someday, I'll figure this out, just in time, I'm sure, to pack the last box for the last kid and wave her tearfully, but proudly and happily, on her way to her own independent life.

Real moms put themselves last sometimes (often) out of necessity, but it doesn't mean they feel last, or cool about being last.

And, real moms sometimes (often) vacuum as escapism.


Enter the Real Mom Truths contest! The winner will receive this amazing 4G iPod Nano and Chocolate gift set, plus a link to their post on True Mom Confessions on Mother's Day.

copyright 2007 Julie Pippert

Comments

MARY G said…
This is really excellent. And so true it's almost scary. Love it.
And a truism that is also universal, I think. My daughters were embarrassed and annoyed by me as teens, got over it in their twenties and we are now, quite honestly, friends. They are 41 and almost 40. I still do the mother thing and help out when they need me, but when we can we just spend time hanging out. I've gone on vacations with one or both of them and it has worked. So take heart. (And you can also use the flour picture for blackmail in ten years' time, hmm?)
Julie Pippert said…
Thanks Mary! It is always good to hear from moms further down the road. And thanks for the compliment! And the blackmail idea. :)

Popular posts from this blog

In defense of vanity...I think

Do you have one of those issues where you argue with yourself? Where you just aren't sure what you actually think because there are so many messages and opinions on the topic around you? I have more than one like this. However, there is one topic that has been struggling to the top of my mind recently: vanity and perceived vanity. Can vanity be a good thing? Vanity has historically been truly reviled. Vanity is number seven of the Seven Deadly Sins. It's the doppleganger of number seven on the Seven Holy Virtues list: humility. There are many moralistic tales of how vanity makes you evil and brings about a spectacular downfall. Consider the lady who bathed in the blood of virgins to maintain her youth. Google Borgia+vanity and find plenty. The Brothers Grimm and Disney got in on the act too. The Disney message seems to be: the truly beautiful don't need to be vain. They are just naturally eye-catchingly gorgeous. And they are all gorgeous. Show me the Reubenesque Princess.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Quorum

After being confronted with written evidence, Julie admits that she is a total attention whore. In some things, in some ways, sometimes I look outward for validation of my worth and existence. I admit it. It's my weak spot, my vanity spot . If you say I am clever, comment on a post, offer me an award, mention me on your blog, reply to a comment I left on your blog, or in any way flatter me as a writer...I am hopelessly, slavishly devoted to you. I will probably even add you to my blogroll just so everyone can see the list of all the cool kids who actually like me . The girl, she knows she is vain in this regard , but after much vanity discussion and navel-gazing , she has decided to love herself anyway, as she is (ironically) and will keep searching for (1) internal validation and (2) her first person . Until I reach a better point of self-actualization, though, may I just say that this week you people have been better than prozac and chocolate (together, with a side of white choc

Cancer's Calling Card

Foreword: I'm not a medical person, or any kind of expert. This post shouldn't be taken as God's word carved in stone by Moses. In other words, don't consider it to be any kind of authority or use it to treat, diagnose, or select medications. Do your own research and talk to your doctor, an actual expert, who, you know, went to medical school and stuff. This post is merely my best understanding of cancer and cancer treatment and prevention, as related to our situation, based on what I've learned from reading and talking to doctors. Author's Note: If you aren't interested in the cancer discussion and the things I learned, and only want to know the outcome of our appointment with the oncologist yesterday, skip to the end. I've divvied this up by sections, so go to the last section. What would you do if one day a postcard arrived in the mail to warn you that sometime in the next three years you would be diagnosed with cancer? Would you believe it? Change an