Stumped on My Perfect Day
On losing sight of your own preferences PLUS the DIY Halloween costumes I need you to applaud for.
This morning, after a retched night of one kid waking the other and the woken kid tossing and turning in my bed for hours thereafter, we all woke up so late and disoriented that David all but threw everyone (remarkably, with respective water bottles and snacks) into the stroller and ran them out the door for school drop off. What followed was the quietest silence, despite a rogue sound machine still raging some sort of violent storm in the next room. While my 4.5-year-old had cleverly reconfigured the furniture to help his 2-year-old sister escape from her crib, she broke out too late to make a measurable mess that needed cleaning. They’d both taken their breakfasts on the road, leaving no dishes left behind to rinse or crumbs to clean. It was peaceful but also disconcerting because I didn’t….know what to do?
First, coffee. But then came the question of what to eat for breakfast. Without any whining diners spewing requests, no trail of fallen Cheerios or dregs of eggs and oatmeal for me to snack my way through, do I go through the effort of making a balanced meal for me alone? If so, what’s my order? Pitifully, I settled on a frozen waffle. At least I took the time to toast it?
Since having one kid, then another, I realize that I’ve made very few decisions for myself and myself alone, particularly in the department of time allocation. I find it hard to navigate theoretically questions like, how would you spend your perfect day?, or IRL ones like, what do you want to do on your birthday? Last year on my birthday, I took the kids out for a treat that I wasn’t even craving. On Mother’s Day, I blew it again by forgoing alone time to take my little monsters to a monstrous Manhattan play space, the absolute antithesis of the relaxation and pampering typically reserved for worthy moms on this holiday.
After both “celebrations,” I felt bummed for having wasted these fleeting opportunities to focus on myself, guilt-free. But as similar circumstances arise (rarely, mind you!), I realize that it’s hard to put myself first not just because I don’t get much practice, but because fundamentally, my values have changed since becoming a parent. I’ve written on how self-care feels frivolous when you’re a mother, but it goes beyond that. While I’m no martyr, the truth is that bringing joy to my kids isn’t just a preset default in this season. Parenthood has given me a sense of purpose that’s fulfilling—there, I said it. In the absence of my kids, it’s no wonder I feel a little lost.
While my single, childless friends would probably see this as a Big Problem to be solved, I don’t. This is the life I’ve chosen. With all of it’s clutter and chaos and blurred lines between what’s best for them vs. me, I’d choose it again.
As if any parent anywhere could possibly miss the memo: Halloween is this week… and last, if you ask my kid’s preschool, who hosted a story character costume parade last Friday. While Shay will be dressing up as Marshall from Paw Patrol for Halloween proper, I forced him to pick a Real Literary Character…and by that I mean I put on a convincing case for Pete the Cat and the Pizza Party. After a two-hour DIY session during which my kids dutifully looked on despite me shoeing them away from my hot glue gun show, Shay looked like a million bucks with his *chef’s kiss* chef’s hat, and a full on foam/paper pepperoni pretzel pickle pizza situation, IYKYK. A fashion friend recently described herself as a poor seamstress but a great “felt mom.” And I’ve never felt more seen, in part because I love a DIY and have no square footage for the sewing machine I once used to make a truly hideous prom dress. It was later featured in a throw back and extremely cringe-worthy Cosmo video:
While I recover from that ^, here is Shay’s costume, not to be upstaged by the big-box Marshall costume he’ll wear on Halloween.
And below, last year’s ice cream man costume, which did not last through trick-or-treating, during which Shay adamantly decided he’d prefer to be Marshall…and thus wore no costume at all. Boy do we try.
Last year Emma was purely Shay’s accessory, which sums up her first year quite nicely. Her costume was a little less polished than his, but bless her, she didn’t complain.
And finally, here’s a bonus pic of Elmo aka Emma, my poor second child who was born at the end of October and will, therefore, get her DIY Halloween costumes as birthday presents forevermore.
