Your Needs Matter

I don’t own an umbrella.

In fact, the image you see here is the last known documented sighting of me using one of the functional devices. And yes, that is my oldest child, who is now nine, pictured in the photograph.   

There was something about the season of my life in which I became responsible for managing the baby carrier and diaper bag—then the toddler, baby carrier and diaper bag—then a kid, toddler, baby carrier and diaper bag—amidst moving traffic, that led me to surrender the quality of the day’s hair situation to the actual survival of me and my children’s lives in parking lots.

I also don’t own a rain jacket.

Everyone in my family has a good rain jacket, but not I. Rather on mornings like these, that are full of torrential rainfall, I prefer to rummage throughout the house and grab various articles of clothing to cover my head to and from the vehicle.

This morning, I started with one person’s rain jacket for trip #1, but then that member of the family needed said jacket. So, I ran to the mudroom to grab a child’s coat, but by the time I got back to the front door, I realized it wasn’t big enough to cover my head. I ultimately ended up with one of Lucas’ vests draped over Smoke and I, but only long enough for Smoke (who was already in his rain jacket and hat) to grab a little extra fabric to cover his own (already covered) head, and pull it off mine before we were able to reach the car seat—leaving the quality of this day’s hair surrendered yet again.

This morning, it hit me: relinquishing this necessity has officially become more of a hindrance than a help. What once seemed impractical to keep up with has now created a whole new series of impractical accommodations. Not owning one of the two most common rain guard items costs me more time and effort than is probably appropriate—and it all transpired from believing that as long as everyone else is covered, it’s okay if I go without.

This is all too often the silent anthem of motherhood—a mantra that, in and of itself, is more of a hindrance than a help when it comes to the health of a family system.

Though this particular example is trivial, the underlying idea—that everyone else’s needs matter far more than our own—becomes unsustainable over time. So take a moment to notice. Slow down, and look at how you go about your daily doings. See how much of your day-to-day is harder simply because everyone else is covered—but you.

Then, go buy an umbrella.