Sacred Mommy Time: I’ll Take What I Can Get

There is a special kind of time called “Mommy Time.” It’s sacred to me. One of the best parts of my Mommy Time is that it makes Mommy/Me happy – mostly due to the fact that it doesn’t involve motherhood at all! I get to be a-l-o-n-e.

I’ve been writing my book lately.

Yesterday, while writing, it felt like I gave birth to a season of pain I’ve held back for years. I had to walk away from the computer more than once just to sit on the floor and weep. Somehow, by delivering a precious memory that has been guarded for years, I ended up with physical tension so intense, one day later I’m still sore.

So, today’s homeschool came to an abrupt ending at 10AM. I was emotionally spent. This afternoon, I tried to take some Mommy Time.

This means my child is essentially abandoned to the wolves while I bathe and daydream. Well, sometimes I might also watch an episode of Outlander. Those things sort of… go together. So, I light the candle, fill the tub, sprinkle in the Epsom salts, and drop in a blend of essential oils. I pour myself a glass of wine and step in. Aaaahhh… it’s almost perfect.

“Mommy?” AAAHHH!

The dream came to a screeching halt. He’s outside the door. “What? It’s Mommy Time.” (“I shouldn’t be hearing your voice…” is what I wanted to add.)

“Can I play outside?” Oh. Hell. Yeah. “Yup! Be safe!”

Now, where was I? Oh, a bath. Alone. It’s great for about 2 minutes. I actually took deep breaths and said a prayer.

“Ahhh! The monster! Get your machine guns, bros! Duga-duga-duga… boom! Wait? How the f—— did HE get out? I’m on it! Die you b———!”

A loud crash is heard after this dramatic speech.

Shhh… I’m trying to just ignore this. My body hurts. I need to rest. But – I also need the quietness. (In my mind, those letters are typed in “whiny” font.)

So, I dip my head underwater.

I rise just enough for my ears to remain hidden under the surface. Shhh… I can hear my heartbeat. I can hear my own breath. This is nice.

“Mommy?” What!? How did he get inside so fast? This time I was more literal. Usually, that helps.

“Baby, Mommy needs to be alone. I need to see no one, and hear no one.”

“OK! Can I play some music and dance?” Nope.

“Can I jump off my bed?” Nooo…

“Can I go to the neighbor’s house?” No!

“Well, what CAN I DO?” He’s deregulating little by little.

My son is lacking in forward-thinking skills. He can’t exactly plan well for himself yet. Add to this an attachment disorder and developmental delay. In the past, it wouldn’t have been unusual for him to sit outside the bathroom door and cry until I came out. What he didn’t know was that I was crying on the other side too.

The Autism Treatment You Haven’t Been Told About

People judge me for not getting more “self-care.”

Well, my friends, this is why. Unless someone else is around to help him stay mentally organized, my son cannot leave me be. Not for more than about 10 minutes. He is not self-sufficient yet, developmentally or emotionally, and requires guidance from someone else on how to navigate his day. He may appear to be older, but we are still very much in the toddler stages of learning how to be independent. And so…. my choices are :

A. Get mad at him for not leaving me alone.
B. Get depressed, consider my special time canceled, and get out.
C. Take whatever moments of peace I can get and find a sense of appreciation.

So, I sink back under the water and hope he’ll be OK for 5 more minutes. Dear, sweet, baby Jesus, please give me five more minutes!

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The author writes from an unabashed, had-it-up-to-here, daily defeated and re-strengthened by grace and hope… kind of place. An adoptive mother of a curious kiddo, full of spirit and sass, tells her tales of homeschooling, fostering, and raising children with special needs. Thanks for joining us on this adventure from adoption to life!

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