When I first had Zoe I remember thinking to myself day after day that I did nothing today. I would end each day scanning though my to-do list only to realize that not only did I not cross anything off but I had somehow managed to add to it. My to-do list was growing and so were my anxieties. I would feel guilty for not being more ‘productive.’ What is our society’s obsession with productivity anyway? Why does productivity need to be measured in accomplishments? Maybe we’re measuring productivity all wrong. Or maybe we need to release our focus on productivity as a sign of a successful day.
That’s actually the one thing I miss about my life in corporate America. I miss that feeling of accomplishment and having something to show for a days hard work. Most days as a stay-at-home-mom you have nothing to show for your day yet it was far from easy and far from slow. Most days are busy and active (and sometimes even chaotic).
There are days where I find myself dreading the inevitable question from my husband when he gets home from work: what did you guys do today? Or the follow up question: did you guys leave the apartment today? I mean what’s with the third degree. I don’t need an interrogation. I want to reply: what are you, a cop? But I don’t. I take a few deep breaths and plaster a smile on my face. I know my husband doesn’t mean any harm by his questions but I can’t help but get defensive. I know my husband is genuinely curious and not trying to make me feel bad but I feel shame and guilt nonetheless. Does anyone else find these questions triggering?
And most days when asked what we did I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Some days we have nothing to show for it. Some days I haven’t even gotten dressed. Some days I haven’t even washed my face. Some days I haven’t even brushed my teeth. Some days I haven’t even eaten a solid meal. Sure there are the days when the stars align and I have done the laundry, gotten groceries, and taken Zoe to story time at the library but let’s be honest, those days are few and far in between. Most days are a blur of dirty diapers, Uber Eats, and coffee refills. This is what parenting is. I remind myself that just because my house looks like Hurricane Sandy hit it doesn’t mean I did nothing. I kissed booboos. I wiped away tears. I tickled feet. I changed diapers. Every day my son wakes up healthy and happy is a good day and I’m responsible (at least in part) for that.
It also doesn’t help that on the days that my husband watches the baby alone he somehow manages to pick up groceries, cook a 3 course meal, do laundry, run the dishwasher, and tidy the apartment. I know what you’re thinking: wow father of the year! Not so fast, my son is mostly ignored and not cared for in the same manner that I would care for him. But still, my husband makes it all look effortless and easy. And not to mention he also inevitably makes me look bad in the process. I’m not judging my husband. We simply have different parenting styles. That’s why there is a mom and a dad.
I would much prefer a house that looks like a bomb went off than a neglected son. I want to be an active mother. A mother who plays with him. A mother who reads books to him. A mother who sings nursery rhymes to him. A mother who plays peekaboo with him. A mother who is present.
And when Zoe is older and all grown up I highly doubt he will look back at his childhood with disgust because the house wasn’t perfectly tidy. He will remember the cozy afternoons reading books. He will remember the lazy mornings helping his mom scramble eggs. He will remember the silly evenings playing music and dancing in the kitchen together. He will remember the magical moments where nothing else mattered in the world but him and his needs.
Now when I look at my growing to-do list I try not to get bothered by it. Those items can wait. That list is not a priority. I can try to tackle the list again tomorrow. And if tomorrow comes and I haven’t made any headway then that’s okay too. The to-list can wait. What we all need is some self love and compassion. We need to stop beating ourselves up. We need to stop trying to be perfect. We need to stop passing judgement on ourselves. We need to release the societal pressure. We need to remind ourselves that we’re doing the best that we can. And our best is good enough.
I know only too well that one day soon Zoe will be in school and be consumed in after school actives such a soccer and tennis and I will have time that I won’t even know what to do with. I will be able to cook every meal from scratch, I will be able to sew his Halloween costume by hand, I will be able to keep the apartment tidy and pristine. One day soon I will miss these beautiful chaotic days. So please don’t wish these days away.
I may not have gotten to the laundry. I may not have cooked a solid meal. I may not have put away the toys. I may not have emptied out the diaper pail. I may not have even left the apartment. But what I did do is so much more important in the grand scheme of things. I rocked my son to sleep. I made sure my son was fed. I bathed my son. I made sure my son felt loved. I kept my son happy. I kept my son safe. And that is not nothing. In fact, it’s everything.
