Monotone


School drop off, school pick up, school drop off, school pick up. It begins to sound monotone when you say it every day. Repetition starts to set in. You wonder to yourself, where did my me time go.

I remember faintly I used to spend hours curling my hair just the right way, trying to make sure that one curl flipped up the perfect way to impress than one boy I liked in high school.

Now I find myself throwing makeup on in less than five minutes because I don’t want the bags under my eyes to show too much. Sometimes I stare at my toenails trying to remember the last time I painted them. Was it last month? Or two months ago? Let me check my planner. Wait, I hear some clatter. What’s my baby doing? Oh no, now I hear some grunting. Maybe she’s pooping. Yep. She’s definitely pooping. Let me grab a diaper and wipes. Where are those darn wipes? Suddenly, I start cleaning the girls’ room. Well, if the room is sparkly clean maybe I wouldn’t have such a hard time finding the wipes. By the time I was done, I was wiped out. Sitting down on the floor, I noticed the wipes were next to me the entire time.

Me time. Oh, how I wish I had enjoyed me time more. Well, if I ever get it again how I wouldn’t take it for granted. I’d browse through the aisles at Target and take my precious time finding the perfect shades of eyeshadow that actually go with the color of my skin. I’d actually enjoy trying to pick out the cover up that fits me. I used to think of it as a chore, to find makeup. Can you believe that? Now it would be a luxury.

Sometimes though, trying to get enough energy to include me time into my life feels like a chore. More than I’d like to admit. I want to veg out. Watch Friends on repeat and enjoy eating a huge meal in peace. I think what I have come most to enjoy now is working out, watching television, and eating alone. Stuff I never thought I’d come to miss doing alone before. But that’s the truth.

Working out on my own gives me such a feeling of accomplishment. I feel like I made time for my health. Watching television and eating alone with no little fingers trying to snatch my food off my plate before taking a bite makes me a bit happier than I’d like to say.

During the monotone of my life with kids I catch myself daydreaming about me time. Then when I finally get to go grab dinner, some fresh air with my friend to catch up and chat, I find myself texting and calling my husband, asking if the girls are okay or if they need anything while I’m out. I never win.