PARENTING AND SELF-CARE
Pursuing hobbies and passion projects can give parents respite from unending chores and rituals.
I recently got into it on a car ride with my husband. We were having one of those rambling conversations couples tend to have, the kind that don’t start or end anywhere. I told him that I felt guilty about going away on a writing retreat for four days.
“But you still went,” he said, unhelpfully. “Yes,” I replied. “That’s because you’re selfish,” he said, and turned to grin at me.
I should make one thing clear — my husband loves to tease me. And after nearly 17 years together, we both know how to push each other’s buttons. So he totally deserved the punch I aimed at his shoulder.
“There needs to be another word to describe my behaviour. How about ambitious?” The best teasing is the kind that calls out home truths. “Besides, you’re selfish, too,” I added. “Yup,” he agreed, completely unfazed. Naturally, I’ve been turning the conversation over in my mind ever since.
Societal double standards mean that allegations of being selfish, bossy or ambitious tend to land with more unflattering force for women than men. And when it comes to those adjectives, I admit I’m a triple threat.
I want to be the sort of doting parent who spends every waking moment thinking about her kids. While my sons are definitely in my Top 10 thoughts, they share space with plenty of other responsibilities.
Yet every time I run away from home for a day or seven, I always feel a little bit guilty. Mostly because of how relieved I feel when I leave.
A recent article in The Guardian by Pulitzer-prize winning journalist Brigid Shulte, expounds on this theme. She writes that a woman’s greatest enemy to the creative process or ambitious pursuits is the lack of long stretches of time to herself.
One line in particular stood out: “… Many women don’t feel that they deserve long stretches of time to themselves … the chores of the day, as Melinda Gates writes in her new book, (are) killing the dreams of a lifetime.”
So many working women can attest to this — at home when I am furiously writing, I am much more likely to be interrupted than my husband, when he works from home.
My kids tiptoe around his conference calls, but complain about my close-door policy (which they also ignore). This has resulted in my increased absentmindedness, which in itself has become a running family joke. As in, ask twice for mom, once for dad.
Does all of this add up to being a selfish parent?
At this point in my worrying, I usually do the parental math: I regularly cook nutritious meals, maintain a stable routine, set clear expectations for my sons’ behaviour, give them responsibilities and the space to fail, don’t shy away from difficult conversations, and tell them I love them — embarrassingly often. Does this mean I get a gold star? And why am I the only parent in my household worried about this?
My own parents set the bar very high. My mom in particular made career and personal sacrifices for the sake of the family. My parents never went on date nights, and my brother and I were taken on every vacation. Mom’s hobbies — knitting, crocheting, sewing, community work — were all done at the edges of her primary role as caregiver. I’m a different parent, and in some ways, I will never measure up.
Being a parent in 2019 includes a lot of talk about self-care. Parents are expected to balance competing work, home and social expectations, while managing not to be helicopter or laissez-faire parents. It’s a tough road to teeter, and most of the time I wobble from one side to the other.
Yet, engaging in hobbies and passion projects, apart from our primary responsibilities as caregivers, is important for parents and guardians. It helps us remember who we are, outside of the family space. It engages our minds and allows for needed respite from the seemingly unending parade of chores and ritual.
Yet the guilt remains. Luckily, there are bright spots. In a recent column about my elder son Mustafa, 14, I worried if I had laid the proper foundation for him, going into high school. Upon reading the column, my son told me that I had done a good job, so far.
When it comes down to it, that’s the only opinion that really matters.