Maintaining my sanity as a stay-at-home Mom is a work in progress.
If you asked me four years ago if I ever thought about taking this route, I would have looked at you straight in the eye and said: “Not a chance!”
I shared this memory with Jeff when he called during his noon break. I was ecstatic because all three children were asleep at 2:00 p.m. and I was basking in the warmth and comfort that silence brought to my current near-insane state.
My shoulders and lower back tell me when I’m near breaking point. My therapist Gina taught me the perfect use of a foam roller to ease my discomfort but for the most part, she advised to practice deep breaths and condition my mind to be calm.
Easier said than done.
Because when you’re in a house with toddlers and a baby, it’s frankly easy to let out a scream and cry out of frustration and beg for Mommy to come rescue me.
Last Tuesday, I felt pretty accomplished. I was down to my last load of laundry and was left with a basket of clothes and towels to fold. Then, Nicholas started asking for something I could not comprehend. Antoinette screamed because she wanted to get out of the house and Jeff Junior, startled out of his sleep from all the crying and whining, let out a wail. There were dishes to be washed, books to be arranged, floor to be cleaned and then there they were — three inconsiderate rugrats who didn’t even bother to ask their exhausted and sleep-deprived mother if she had eaten something.
The hell they care, my other self told me.
Human beings are naturally selfish, said Thomas Hobbes.
“That’s why we’re born with closed fists,” said my late grandmother in support of Hobbes’ claim. “However,” she continued, “the beauty in human beings is that we can learn and we can be trained.”
So this means: my kids are born inconsiderate and selfish but I can teach/train them not to be inconsiderate and selfish.
How would I do that when these pesky creatures are killing me day by day with so much housework – and yet there’s still more that needs to be done by the end of the day?!
Jeff’s idea was radical: wake up early.
Too hard for me.
I’m not a morning person.
I’m most awake when the rest of the world is asleep. It gives me the feeling that I have the world to myself when in fact there are billions of people living, surviving, thriving, and going about their lives in this blue planet.
But I tried it out last Tuesday anyway just for the heck of it.
I slept at 10:00 p.m. on a Monday, woke up at 3:00 a.m. to read (for pleasure), slept again and woke up at 5:45 a.m.
Jeff usually leaves for work at 7:30 a.m. but he wakes up a few minutes before six because he likes his morning to be unhurried: to eat a full breakfast and start his day with a full, happy stomach.
I started my day with a shower and a full change of clothes that I really liked: an ensemble that made me feel pretty and comfy.
The three rugrats were all awake by the time I was dressed.
There is no definite routine between 6:00 to 9:45 a.m.
It could be anything involving giving the kids a bath/shower, changing diapers, blocking the eardrum-shattering scream produced by Antoinette’s vocal chords, feeding them breakfast, cooking something for eventual reheating, handing out apples, singing nursery rhymes…
My alarm goes off at 9:45 a.m., reminding me to prepare for our 10:00 a.m. “class”. When Jeff Junior is still very active around this time, I normally begin my lesson with a video (e.g. nursery rhyme or a movie) and continue with the lesson with other activities.
Class ends at 11:30 a.m.
Usually.
I tell the twins to come to the kitchen with me.
I hand them their bowls — which I developed the habit of calling them plato — with food and then they walk to the kiddie table and chairs where they eat their lunch.
The end result is pretty messy and they normally come back to me to ask for second helping (or third helping if it’s Nicholas).
They say: “Water Mom” and then lunch is done.
It’s 12:30.
I play a nature show from Netflix.
They usually scream especially when they’ve watched a Mickey Mouse film prior to the nature show. It’s very easy to give in and just give them what they want just to shut them up and save your eardrums from further beating but… I clinch my fist and bite my lip.
I refuse to succumb.
I won’t be bullied by my kids.
I’m the adult here.
While the twins are watching the show, I feed the baby his lunch and then let him roll and crawl all over the floor.
After the 45-minute show, I play a two-hour lullaby video which I found in Youtube. It’s just a compilation of nursery rhymes played in very soothing and calming notes.
It’s 1:30 p.m. and the kids are asleep.
Afternoon naptime usually runs from two to three hours.
While they’re asleep, I normally bake cookies/cake/brownies or get things ready for dinner. I read a book, watch CSI Miami, and then take a nap.
By the time they’re awake — between 3:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. — snacks are ready.
I would do some more reading while waiting for Jeff to come home. He calls when he is on his way home.
My heart skips every single time I see him enter the front door with a box or two for me mailed by publishing companies and organizations for book and product reviews.
The whole day – from 6:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. – passed by like a blur. Sometimes, I could not even remember what I did exactly. I’m too exhausted to remember.
I melt in Jeff’s presence and unload my frustrations. Every single time, I bring up the very comfortable life I lived in the Philippines with so much help from family members.
It’s a rarity here.
I cried many times.
I need my Mom.
But one thing I realized from this experiment to wake up early is to be always a step ahead: cook in advance, prepare lesson plans, make a grocery list so we don’t run out of apples, keep the cookies and brownies coming…
I do all these because I’m the Mother and I’m in charge.
