I recently have had a million gifts to buy for happy occasions. New babies, birthdays, weddings. It seems like there has been much more giving than in recent years. And while I am thrilled to give, because it really is something that makes my heart happy, it’s made me realize that as of late, I tend to do nothing for myself.
I am a (stay at home) mom and a wife, so obviously, I’m constantly going and doing for my family. Food shopping, laundry, cleaning, paying bills, playdates, errands, pick ups, drop-offs; the list is endless. And in between all of those things, I feel like a chicken without its head, running around doing so much for everyone else. And it’s not even stuff people ask me to do, it’s things that I put on myself. I am my own worst enemy sometimes.
So the other day, when I was running around to 13 different stores trying to buy the perfect new baby gift for a dear friend, drop off the dry cleaning, pick up a birthday gift for a friend’s daughter, and get my own child new shoes, I was suddenly so overwhelmed that I stopped and was like, “What the fuck do I do for myself anymore?” The answer it seems: practically nothing.
Any free time I have, it seems to be spent doing for others. Even when I get away, it’s for other people (weddings, birthdays, parties), not for me or my family per se. And in one respect, I am so lucky to have people in my life that I love so much to do these things for and with, yet in the process of being me, I have also forgotten about myself. While I go to the gym, catch an hour of bad reality TV, and maybe get in a run, I rarely seem to do anything beyond that just for me. The irony is that if you asked me what I’d want to do if I had the time, I probably couldn’t give you a decent answer beyond something like getting a massage. To some, this may sound bratty or entitled, which is the last impression I want to make, but at the end of the day, it’s my reality, and I own it.
I’m always fixated on what needs to be done next. What else is on the to-do list that needs to be tackled. Maybe that’s because I’m home now and no longer in the workforce. Maybe I need to feel accomplished, so doing all this crazy shit fills a void. It could be that I just don’t feel like I have time to do things for me like I used to (I mean, who wants to go shoe shopping with a two-year-old?). Or maybe I’m just wired this way; constantly going, running and doing, because really, isn’t that life?
Whatever the reason, I need to figure out how to remember me, which is proving a lot harder than it sounds.