I've been thinking a lot about the idea of self care for moms since writing my last post about a blue flame . That's partly due to devouring Jen's book so recently, but it's also just because we're on vacation. A beach vacation. A beach vacation on my home turf, and where we come every year (that we can).
It's the ultimate relaxing vacation, right?
It is. And it's not. You see, we have officially hit the point on a vacation (it happens every time, I swear) where the introverts and the extroverts at the Circus need *very different things*. And as the strongest, most thru-and-thru introvert at the Circus, it's usually me that cracks under the pressure of a Circus vacation. Poor Mike, who is probably the second-purest extrovert at the Circus (Mr J being the first), is usually the one who gets caught in the breakdown with me.
By this point in a vacation, we've spent 4-5 days constantly on the go. We must do all the things, all of the time. Here in Pensacola, we kayak, we bike, we paddle board, we boogie board, we spend hours playing on the beach and then move to the pool and finish out the day there. We go explore the sites and take the dolphin cruises and go out to eat. All.The.Fun. This trip has the added fun of a velcro Miss E who only wants Mommy, wants Mommy all of the time, and must be touching Mommy (and/or playing with Mommy's hair) at all times. Oh, and who also doesn't like touching the sand.
For the pure introvert (me), it gets to be too much. Very much too much. I get to the point where I can't seem to create complete thoughts in my head, and every touch - EVERY touch - makes me cringe and feel like I can't breathe. I need an hour or two of complete silence (well, minus the sound of the waves on the beach), maybe some time with a good book, or a chance to write without interruptions. That's just to feel human again. If I want to feel refreshed or rested....I need double the amount of time doing those things.
When we're at home, pretty much my only reliable time to get the quiet/alone time that I need to recharge is while I'm on the treadmill. Even then, at least 75% of the time, there will be a child who escapes the watch of his/her big brothers and sneaks into the bedroom to talk and chat and just kind of interrupt my time. It's as reliable as introvert recharge time gets, with a large family. And I'm very appreciative of it.
But when I go on vacation, I too crave the time to relax. To get a break from normal, every day life.
For my extroverts, that's relatively easy to get - they either thrive with people around them, or at least don't even notice it. They want to do those fun things: the kayaking, the paddle boarding, the sight seeing. And they feel more energized by doing it all of the time.
That's not me.
If my normal, every day life includes interrupted workouts as my only recharge time. (to be fair, I do get random "nights off", but they're not as frequent as I'd prefer, but that's the same for my extroverts - we get those adventures and fun activities, but not as frequently as they prefer).
In order to get a "relaxing vacation", I need more than interrupted time off as my recharge time. I need more than sitting on the beach for 5 minutes of quiet time at a time before another child climbs on my lap or pulls my hair or interrupts the page I'm trying to read. Those interruptions mean that I've mentally *just* gotten a chance to let my guard down and try to clear my head and relax.....and I'm abruptly forced to stop, refocus, and take in stimulation in some form. It's *more tiring* than if I'd never tried to relax in the first place.
This came to a head last night, and partly because I had Jen's book in the back of my mind. I was asked why I just didn't *take* that recharge time that I needed and insist on going down to the beach or pool by myself and just reading for an hour. Or why I didn't just say "I'm going to do ____" and head off and do it, without any hesitation.
It made me realize that I didn't feel like I *could* do those things. When I do walk away from a child who wants Mommy, or when I do say "I'm not going to go down to the pool with you guys, I'm going to stay in the condo and write", the guilt that I feel is incredible. I feel like I'm either letting them down, or I need to make it up to them in some form. As I write this, I even realize that I did just that this morning, although I was *trying* to take the initiative to take care of myself, as Mike had asked me to. How? I spent the first half hour of that time that I "grabbed" for self care doing chores. An introvert with a "love language" of acts of service is a glutton for punishment, I'm realizing.
I spent the first half hour of my alone time - before even firing up the laptop - sweeping the condo, cleaning surfaces, Swiffering the tile, and doing laundry. I realize now, as I'm writing, that I did that as a way to make up for sending them down to the beach without me. It was my gift to apologize for having to take care of myself and bail on their fun morning at the beach - to come back to clean clothes, nicely folded and put away, and a clean condo. Only after doing all that did the guilt dissipate enough for me to pop open the computer and write this post.
While talking to Mike about it last night, I stumbled on the thought that it was the guilt that was actually holding me back from insisting on this time to myself. I didn't feel the guilt when it was a workout that I was trying to sneak away from, but when it came to recharge time? Oh, the guilt was there tenfold.
I realized - thanks to Jen's book - that the guilt was coming from a place where I'd absorbed this message from the mom blogs or other moms at playgroups or what not that only certain "recharge" events were considered okay by the general mom community. Mom's Nights Out? Yes. Heck, even movies have been made about just that - a MNO is a very culturally approved and appropriate "time off" event for a mom. A day at the spa or a hair salon? Definitely - that's a perfect Mother's Day gift to show the mom in your life that you approve of that kind of time to themselves. Date night? Definitely an approved time for a mom to "get a break" (even though she's still with another person and likely carrying on conversations with them. No matter how much she loves that other person....it's still not alone time or a break for the introvert).
While I enjoy those things - well, maybe not the MNO....those often leave me more tired than I left the house feeling - none of them fall into the category of "things that leave me feeling refreshed and recharged." They're not a break from the stress and stimulation of daily life, and never have been, even before I had kids. I was the kid who locked themselves in their bedroom and read for hours when they needed a break from the outside world. I'd still be that kid today, if I could.
So, that's where the trouble comes in when we're on vacation. To feel like I've relaxed - which is what everyone craves on vacation, right?...a chance to relax - I need that time away from anyone else, with no noise or stimulation (or little noise or stimulation), and very much without a toddler pulling my hair out.
But I can't seem to bring myself to just *do it* without feeling intense guilt that basically ruins the time away. It's not an "approved" method of mom getting a break. It feels selfish, because it's not what they talk about in the mommy blogs and magazines. Paying a babysitter so you can go get a cup of coffee and sit in the car and type out your thoughts on the computer feels like a waste of money, unless you're getting paid for writing your thoughts down - and it usually feels like the general mommy world thinks it is, too. I'm pretty sure that until Jen's book, I had *never* seen it mentioned as acceptable to go and pay a babysitter or walk away from your family while on vacation to go sit and read a book. Not read a page or two between children jumping on you, or while watching your kids play at the beach. But on your own, without any other stimuli. I've never seen it mentioned as a suggestion at a playgroup to go walk the beach on your own, and not part of a nature walk with your kids. Go for a run? Sure. Go walk as a way to think and sort your thoughts, not as a means to get your "pre-mom" body back? Not at all.
Maybe I'm not reading enough blogs and magazines to see it. That's very possible. I stopped reading them around child number 4 because it was too stressful and maddening to see how perfect everyone else was, even as I felt I was drowning. That isn't me, and has never been me. My life will never be featured in a fashion magazine, haha. The house isn't clean enough to be Pinterest-worthy, and my kids don't get elaborate crafts or birthday parties. What you see is usually what you get with me, unless I've forgotten to bring something with me.
Even though I stopped reading - and mostly stopped attending playgroups because of Mr T's weakened immune system - those thoughts, those "approved" mommy recharge options, still formed the basis of what I thought I could and couldn't do to relax. It still left me feeling like I was being incredibly selfish to say "I'm going to go for a walk on the beach now and I need you to walk the other way with the toddler who is wanting to come with me, and get her involved in something cool that way so she doesn't scream after me." My self care didn't look like everyone else's (at least everyone that I knew about - I'm guessing I'm not actually alone with this, but it doesn't sell magazines), and so it felt like I was being selfish and putting myself above the needs of my family.
I needed someone to affirm that what I needed - the chance to take care of myself and get a break from my "normal life" while on vacation - wasn't actually me being selfish, but it was me taking care of myself.
And that's where the miscommunication came in. As an extrovert, Mike didn't realize the extent that being interrupted while trying to do things (like read to relax) exhausted me and left me feeling more drained than before we even started. He didn't realize just how much I wasn't relaxing, because to him it wouldn't matter that a child was climbing on you while you were trying to relax on the beach, or that a preschooler (or teenager) was walking along the seashore with you, talking a mile a minute. That what seemed like a simple conversation while walking on the beach to him was actually taking all of my brainpower to listen and formulate responses (especially with the preschooler! haha), and not giving me the opportunity to clear my head and *not think* for awhile, which was what I was actually craving.
We've adjusted slightly, and even though today is our last day here, I'm hoping that I'll go to bed tonight feeling that sense of rejuvenation that I've been craving. I'm hoping to wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed and ready to re-enter normal Circus life.
Convincing myself to believe that self care like what I crave and need *isn't selfish* will take longer. It's going to be hard for me to accept that and leave the guilt behind, after nearly 14 years of being conditioned otherwise. I know that. But I also know that I can't possibly be alone with this - there has to be at least one of you out there, reading this, who feels the same way. Let's hold each other up and help ourselves believe that taking the time to care for ourselves *isn't inherently selfish* if we need to go lie in the sun by ourselves with a book, or walk on the beach (or in the woods) without our children, or sit in the car in the parking lot in the rain with a book and a coffee for an hour.
We can do this.
Wow! That explains so much - wish I had learned that much about me as an introvert years ago.
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