At
a local homecoming football game, the senior class boys and girls who
had been nominated as homecoming royalty gathered in anticipation of
being crowned king or queen.
Many
parents, family and friends gathered in the late September evening to
show their love and support — except for the mother of one of
the nominated girls, a girl we’ll call Sara. Sara’s mom,
who had left her children in custody of her ex-husband in pursuit of
a new, freer life and only sees her children from time to time,
despite living relatively nearby, had bigger plans during the
homecoming game — an evening out with her girlfriends. However,
when her girlfriends canceled the plans, Sara’s mom then
decided to try to make it to the game.
It
was too late. She arrived minutes after her daughter was crowned the
homecoming queen. Gone forever was a moment, a memory, an opportunity
she will never reclaim. In its place, I would venture to guess, was
sadness, hurt and insecurity on Sara’s part, as so many
children face today.
This
rising generation is often referred to as a generation of
entitlement, children who somehow have the notion that they are owed
things; another phrase could be “the selfish generation.”
However, I would argue that such a moniker increasingly can be
applied to their parents’ generation as well, of which I am a
part.
Now
let’s swing the pendulum to the extreme opposite.
Perhaps
you know of someone who is a slave to her children, who can never
leave them or be without them, who seemingly has no outside
interests, personality or time independent of motherhood.
Somewhere
in the midst of this begs the question of so-called “me time.”
The
great writer Pearl S. Buck quipped what is one of my most cherished
quotes:
I
love people. I love my family, my children… but inside myself
is a place where I live all alone and that’s where you renew
your springs that never dry up.
Thus,
similar to what Shakespeare’s Hamlet asked in his famous
soliloquy, I ask, “To me or not to me, that is the question?”
As
with most things, the key lies in balance and moderation.
I’ll
be the first to admit how very much I treasure “me time.”
Be it a jog around the lake, a project worked on during nap time, a
solo shopping outing where I can drive and listen to whatever I want
— sometimes I choose silence! — and not one single person
says one single word to me, or an evening out to dinner or book club
with girlfriends, “me time” is a sanity-saver.
However.
With
all the distractions and things today’s life throws at us,
perhaps we are taking more “me time” than we realize.
A
comment posted to one of my previous columns read as such:
Last
year, we (the fifth grade teachers) gave our students a writing
prompt to develop: “If I could magically make one thing
disappear forever, it would be....” We made a condition that it
had to be something tangible (not an idea) and it could not be living
things (like a brother or sister). Almost half the students responded
with either “my mom's cell phone” or “my dad's
computer.” Our kids are starving.
Perhaps
here can apply the old adage of the “wolf in sheep’s
clothing.”
Truth:
On more than one occasion one of my children has asked me for help
with something or wanted to tell me something but I have been too
busy to respond or help because I am caught up in the extremely
important task of surfing Pinterest for the latest and greatest ideas
with which to brighten “their” lives.
Aha!
“Me” time disguised as “them” time.
My
sister Kristina called me recently, feeling a bit blue. As a loving,
stay-at-home mother to a four-year-old, a two-year-old and a
10-month-old, she was feeling a bit worn down and spread thin. I
could totally relate; I had been there once with multiple very young
children, and not so long ago.
“I’m
feeling drained,” she said.
As
we know, when something is being drained, and not being replenished,
it becomes empty.
I
listened, and tried to offer some counsel of perhaps trying to
increase her amount of “me” time, which was close to
nonexistent. I have since been pleased to hear a bit more perk in her
voice, after she joined a morning running group with other moms, and
partnered with a friend on some home-improvement projects. However, I
realize it’s not always such a clear-cut fix.
But
often times, increasing our scripture study and personal prayers,
making more time to put our talents and interests to good use and the
like can cure what ails moms. When we are filling our physical,
emotional and spiritual buckets, so to speak, I believe we are more
able to give to those we are charged with loving and serving,
primarily our families.
We’re
not all programmed the same, and thus the amount of “me”
time we each require is not equal. I have friends who seem to require
more than I, and friends who seem to require less than I do. And they
are all good mothers who love their children.
Perhaps
the key is to periodically take inventory of our families. “Are
my children getting what they need? Am I taking time to put away all
distractions and give them my undivided attention, thus ensuring that
they are not starving?”
And
perhaps the bigger question, “When does ‘me time’
become problematic?”
This
complex question likely has complex answers, but on a simple level,
it becomes problematic when it is taking away from our family
relationships and we are taking more time for ourselves than we are
giving to our families. Because for something to be great and have
the best outcomes — in this case, raising a generation that is
strong and good and secure and loved — it requires some
sacrifice. More specifically here, sacrifice on the part of the
parents. Consider this line from one of my favorite hymns, “Praise
to the Man:”
Sacrifice
brings forth the blessings of heaven.
In
considering the blessings of heaven and their eternal nature, it’s
about setting aside the selfish, and striving for more selfless.
Melissa Howell was born and raised in the woods of northern Minnesota. She has a degree in
journalism from the University of Minnesota.
As a single 20-something, she moved to Colorado seeking an adventure. She found one, first in
landing her dream job and then in landing her dream husband; four children followed.
Upon becoming a mother, she left her career in healthcare communications to be a stay-at-home
mom, and now every day is an adventure with her husband Brian and children Connor (9), Isabel
(6), Lucas (5) and Mason (2).
In addition, she is a freelance writer and communications consultant for a variety of
organizations.
Melissa serves as Assistant director of media relations for stake public affairs and Webelos den leader