I skipped out of my Wills & Trusts class with a lightness that I don’t usually have after talking about dead people’s estates for over two hours straight, and my friend noticed it immediately. When I informed her that I was leaving for the beach early the next morning, her jaw practically hit the floor.
“How are you able to just up and leave like that? Don’t you have kids?” she asked, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Well, yes,” I replied slowly, considering how to pack my entire marital and family dynamic into one brief sentence, “but the older three kids are with their other parent’s this week, and Kevin has tomorrow off, so he’ll stay with the twins. And I’m taking the dog with me.”
“What about school?”
“I can read my textbook on the beach!” I responded, an answer that we both knew was bull, and unsurprisingly, ended up being a lie.
I thought nothing of our brief conversation, but by the time I finished packing that night, I had been asked various versions of the same question multiple times.
‘How are you just leaving?’
‘Who is watching your kids?’
‘Is your husband okay with that?’
‘Won’t you miss them?’
By the end of the day, I really started to question whether there maybe was something wrong with me, because no, I didn’t feel the slightest shred of guilt at the thought of leaving my family for barely twenty-four hours. I knew I would miss my twins, but I had left them before. Still, was my attachment to them not secure? Was I actually being selfish or bad wife?
I think as people, and especially as mothers, we want to be able to measure everything. Quid pro quo, if you will. When we indulge in a treat, something “selfish,” we want to feel like we’ve earned it, and we want to be able to justify our choices to everybody else.
But newsflash:
A father “watching” the kids so a mother can get a break is not a luxury: it’s simply parenting.
When a mom wants a night to herself, or heck, even a whole day (or two! or three!), she doesn’t need to provide an itemized list of all of the things she’s done to earn it. Whether she is a working mom or a stay-at-home mom or somewhere in between, wanting a few hours to reset and recharge isn’t just a nice idea; it’s a necessity that allows a mother to be the best mother she can be. If she is overstimulated, touched out, exhausted, and hasn’t taken care of herself in any meaningful way in months, then she is not going to parent — or at least, feel good while doing it — as well as someone who is rested, refreshed, and supported.
I am well aware that there are mothers out there that do not have that kind of support, from their partner or anyone else. I definitely didn’t in my first marriage. I am also well aware that many of the people asking me things like, “How are you just up and leaving?” or “How does your husband feel about it?” were not directly implying that I didn’t deserve to go. I am aware of all of this. But, it also all points to several unspoken societal beliefs, namely:
- Mothers mother; fathers are “watching their kids.”
- A father who “watches” his kids deserves praise.
- A father doesn’t need to justify his breaks (think going golfing, going on long runs every weekend, going to fantasy football parties, grabbing drinks with coworkers after work, etc.) but a mother does.
- A mother who wants to clock out of being a mother must not be a good mother.
- Alone time for a mother is viewed as a treat rather than the standard.
Simply put, those beliefs are untrue, or at least a lot more complicated than they seem upon first glance. We need to expect more from fathers. We need to give more grace to mothers. And we need to be more honest about what an equal partnership looks like to us, personally, while being accepting of what it looks like for others. For me and my husband? Parenting as a team means that when I have the chance to clock out for a day and catch up with my best friend, I am being practically pushed out the door!
I hit the road just before six o’clock in the morning, and my first stop was McDonald’s for breakfast and a Dirty Dr. Pepper. My Mormon upbringing taught me that it is never too early for a soda, especially when a roadtrip is involved! I had a three hour drive ahead of me, and I had even made a playlist specifically for the trip, so between my yummy drink and my tunes, the drive flew by.
As soon as I get to Sara’s, we loaded up her car with beach chairs, snacks, more soda (shocker, right?), and the dogs, and drove another hour to Topsail Island, the nearest beach. I brought my Wills & Trusts textbook with high hopes of studying, but that textbook is one of the most expensive things I own, so I quickly used possibility of sand getting between the pages as an excuse to put the book away. I had to keep it safe!
It was my dog Ginger’s first time at the beach, and she was having a blast running around with Willie, chasing the seagulls and the crabs. I hadn’t been to the beach in over two years, which for someone who grew up going multiple times a year, and when I lived in Hawaii, multiple times a week, was a long time to go without seeing the ocean. I have always found healing and inspiration at the beach, and had been missing the ocean the way one would miss a friend they hadn’t seen in years. Full of gratitude, I cracked open a cherry-flavored Diet Coke, wiggled my toes into the warm sand, and closed my eyes, taking in the sound of waves crashing against the shore. That’s when it hit me:
Nothing matters and everything in life is going to work out just fine.
I told my epiphany to my friend, and she just laughed. She knew exactly what I meant. I am currently in what feels like the trenches (fear not, it will get worse) of law school. The “only” things standing between me and becoming a practicing attorney are oh, you know, passing the bar examination and graduating school. No small tasks! However, a year from now, those tasks will be behind me, and I don’t know how, but I know that everything will work out. If nothing else, because they have to.
I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to just sit and do nothing for a few hours until I was lounging in that beach chair getting atrociously sunburned. But the longer I sat there, the more I could literally feel the stress and pressure melt away. Nobody needed me. There was nothing I needed to do (other than my Wills & Trusts reading, but that’s beside the point). I just needed to sit there. It was a wonderful feeling.
And clearly, the dogs had a blast, too!
After spending the afternoon at the beach, Sara and I dropped the dogs off at her house before heading out to dinner. Sara moved out to a teeny tiny town in the coastal plains of North Carolina, where there are literally more hogs and cows than people. So naturally, we chose to go to a farm for dinner! They had an all-you-can-eat buffet, and we ate so much that we were literally sick afterwards. Apparently, when I’m not the one in charge of getting dinner on the table, I have no self control!
We wandered around the farm after dinner before calling it a night. Once we were home, we piled in bed with the dogs and some snacks, and fell asleep while the Secret Lives of Mormon Wives was still playing on the television. After what could only be described as a day full of self-indulgence, I slept great.
The best part of this was that I didn’t receive a single text from my husband asking about what the twins needed or anything he needed to do. He didn’t need to ask where the extra diapers were, what times they needed bottles, how to know what they were crying about. We are equal partners and equal parents, and because of that, I was able to truly relax and enjoy my time away.
And when I came home around eleven o’clock the next morning, everyone, including my husband, was asleep. The house was spotless. The kitchen was sparkling. Basically, it didn’t look like a bomb went off in my house! The best part wasn’t that everything was clean, it’s that I didn’t have to leave a list or give any instructions.
If it sounds like I’m describing the bare minimum, or nothing out of the ordinary, then I would agree. However, this wasn’t always the case, and it’s not for many people. Every day, I thank God for such an involved, hands-on, attentive, and loving husband. I am thankful that my days of feeling like the mental load of running a household and choreographing a childhood rests on my shoulders and mine alone are over. Above all else, I am grateful that I was able to take a weekend and be just Megan.
Not a mom. Not a wife. Not a law student (or at least not a very good one!).
Just… Megan.
