Of all the Mother’s Day moments yesterday, this was my favorite:
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Not because my children were happily occupied (although they were).
Not because I got to enjoy a lavender cosmo (although I did).
It was my favorite because my kids are at ages when I can. When I can sit. Sip life. Talk to my husband about things.
It hasn’t always been this way. For so many Mother’s Days (and all days), parenting was a full-contact sport that was being played 24/7. There was no down time. No off.
And in part, that was their ages. And in part, it was me. And it turns out (no surprise) when we do this, it comes at a cost. And now that cost has a name–postnatal depletion. It is, essentially, the physiological and psychological hangover that comes after pregnancy. And lasts for years.
But it doesn’t have to.
We can change it. We can stop assuming that the best mothering, the best parenting, comes when we always sacrifice ourselves.
So this week’s love note? A reminder to stop. And to find, instead of the missing socks, the lost dog, the late library book, ourselves. We’ve done enough hiding. It is time to seek ourselves.
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