Two thousand eighteen. Seriously, how did that even happen?
I’m not generally a long term goal setter. I really like to set reachable goals so I don't disappoint myself, and as a mom of three that mostly includes things like only wash a load of laundry once, at the most twice before I get it into the dryer. But I recently took a little day trip a few towns over alone, lets take a moment of silence because I think it’s been three years since that’s happened. It was only last week and I’ve already forgotten how it feels.
I was driving on the interstate blaring the Meaghan Trainor Pandora station, that’s a good one by the way, singing at the very top of my lungs and planning my order at Starbucks when a song came on that took me back. Suddenly I was cruising down the Suwannee River with my best friend and our guys. We were singing, our hair blowing in the wind, barefoot and fancy free, also stretch mark free and my rear was still sitting perkily where it belonged, and not a single worry in the entire world. It felt good to be back there for just a few seconds, and then I snapped back to reality. I know I’ll never feel that way again, and I also know that it’s okay to mourn that life once in awhile. I mean four people weren't counting on me to keep them alive. Would I trade my kids in to wear a bikini again? Of course not…well, probably not, no definitely not.
It was in that moment that I decided to adjust my goals for 2018 (sorry Brandon, your clothes will probably still get triple washed). I decided that in 2018 I wont feel guilty for needing time to myself and once a month you can find me alone at Starbucks and roaming around TJ Maxx. You're totally welcome to join…but don't bring your kids. Seriously. I’m not going to stress about situations I can’t control and I’m going to let my kids be kids. My husband is always telling me “let those babies play!” I am so bad about only seeing the “mess” and not seeing the fun. It doesn't mean I won't teach them to clean up the mess when the fun is over, but I’m going to learn to let the fun come first. Even if that includes taking the belt out of my robe to play with a thousand times a day. I know they won’t be little forever and I’m going to soak in every single second, even the not so glorious ones.
I am going to break up with coffee… ha! Just kidding, but maybe I’ll go from 14 ounces to 12. I think what I really want out of 2018 is to enjoy my kids, but to also take time to feel like a person again; to take an occasional break from only being mom and to find a happy medium between the two. I deserve to be my best self, my kids deserve the best mom, and my husband at least deserves for me to be nice to him occasionally. So no more mom guilt, or Starbucks guilt, or “Im taking too long at the grocery store” guilt. I may have to chant ‘I trust my husband with my kids’ over and over in my head, but hey, whatever it takes, right? And maybe, after spending a day with each other, they will all realize what a hero I really am…