Cultivation

The two weeks prior to my son turning two were busy for me. Not only was I executing the final plans for his birthday party, but I was also hunting for a part time (VERY part time) daycare. You see, children under two years old are considered infants at daycares, at least where we live. That means that providers can charge more for them by the hour because of their high need, but it also means that the spaces for this age group are limited by regulation. That being said, it is very difficult to find any place that will take an infant for part time care. Why fill up a regular infant slot with an irregular participant and loose the funds a full time baby would provide?

Knowing this was the case, I went on the search as soon as my kid moved from being a pricey infant to a regular kid. I finally settled upon Jack's current daycare and I began “Operation Regain and Retain Sanity”.

Prior to having my son I was married to my husband for over 7 years. During those seven years I spent 60-70% of the time alone while he travelled for work. Growing up as an annoying last child, I was used to being on my own and entertaining myself and I developed a great talent for self teaching. So, although I had moments of tears and loneliness and concern when my husband was deployed, I learned to embrace my alone time. It wasn't just that I liked it, I loved it, I was it, I embraced it whole heartedly. And I made the most of it. I learned piano, I studied foreign languages, went to college, did macrophotography, and I had the most amazing flower garden in the world (at least by my standards for a first time gardener).

Then we conceived our son, which was a completely amazing miracle. I remember one day prior to birthing my kid I laid in bed purposefully doing nothing and thinking nothing because I KNEW that these days would soon be over. In a matter of days/weeks I would rarely be alone or have time to do difficult errands or self improvement. You see, bed rest was a cruel bitch. I had two months of isolation and laziness for my social and interpersonal skills to atrophy. That was in preparation for becoming everything to a little needy, suckling, pooping, screaming human alarm clock. My giving muscles were about as underdeveloped as my triceps and glutes were. I knew that a lot of self sacrifice would be taking place, and it would be worth it. But, this chapter of my life would take huge mental adjustments.

I made it through those first two years, and having my son makes everything else I love more worthwhile. The house was somewhat clean, the laundry created lovely multicolored mountainous decorations in my home, my garden was an alarming and embarrassing stretch of death and weeds. My roses were eaten up by God knows what, a rabid rose consuming beaver of destruction? Every time I left my house I felt like low crawling to my car with my kid on my back to avoid having to look my neighbors in the eye. These were the men I had spent many springs and summers alongside mowing, edging, weedwacking, weeding and planting.

But this year will be different! I can walk outside of my house with my head held high, even if I have food smeared all over my shirt. You see, I now have some time for myself every Wednesday. I TAKE time for myself, and I would pay much more than the thirty five dollars I do pay to keep this one day a week set aside for doctor appointments, car repairs, hair appointments, lawn mowing, intense gardening, and important Lowes perusing. Basically, much like my garden, I need some tending to once in a while!!

We all know that I am not the only who benefits from my weekly vacation day from motherhood. Jack needs more friends than just his mom after all. Each week he gets to enjoy a different authority figure and other children his age, while learning the indispensable ability to sleep somewhere other than his own bed.

So, here I sit at a Starbucks watching the 20 somethings look for any signs of interest or attention from anyone else, while seething with apathy. One is smoking a pipe... a pipe. In the corner is the only other laptop user inundated with paperwork, manuals, a calculator and a very tightly buttoned long sleeve polo shirt.

During a conversation where the husband and I were contemplating how to decrease our outgoing funds and increase our incoming funds James suggested that I stop sending Jack to daycare once a week. It was a luxury that we could cut out. Those are some big words coming from a man who is slighted to leave for most of the coming year. Understandably I informed him of my ability to eat only rice and spam every day so that I could trim some fat from the food budget to place into the daycare budget. The insatiable money-munching hamster in his brain thrusted it's wheel into overdrive as he mentally calculated the benefits of limiting our food budget AND eliminating daycare. The food budget was my back pocket ace, dammit. I have always been too reactive to excel at any skills that require strategy, like bartering.

I'll admit, it is sometimes tempting to ask myself why I am paying to do this each week. Why would I give someone else money so that I can sit here sipping coffee and acting the fool with my hipster coffee shop computer usage?

But I know why, and you know why. It is because we all need time to be unneeded. I don't have any appointments today, I have no where I HAVE to be, and I have no one I HAVE to take care of. It's exactly what my mind and body need each week. I have no doubt that the time I am taking for myself will cultivate not only a great vegetable garden this year, but also a more sane and patient mother. Besides, all those vegetables will go quite nicely with all the rice and the spam I may end up consuming.