Sarah Too

I am seeing so many posts -- blogs, articles, essays -- from women saying that "self care" is not enough to combat the daily grind of jobs, personal relationships, family, children, stress, and more. And I completely agree. I want to go out and buy every woman I know the recently released book about female stress called, Burnout. This book could not be more relevant or timely. It explains exactly why pedicures, a walk around the block, that one girls' weekend away are not enough to combat our stress, to provide real relief.

I think modern motherhood is absolutely exhausting. We put so much pressure on ourselves to do everything right for our kids. From positive discipline to balanced nutrition to literacy and screen time, we are trying so. damn. hard. Every day while also taking care of laundry, and dishes, and meals, and dirty toilets, and mildewed showers, and overflowing trash cans. Every day, the pressure to be a patient, loving, attentive mother while paying the bills, scheduling appointments, and arranging logistics. The hustle is real.

In the midst of all of this, we are failing ourselves. We are beating ourselves up for loving our careers too much, or for giving up on our careers too easily. We feel guilt over wanting "more" than motherhood, or shame ourselves for not wanting "more" than motherhood. If we are truly honest with ourselves and each other, we all feel like we are doing it all wrong. We also feel like we "look" all wrong while doing it and deride ourselves for our cellulite and stretch marks, our flawed, aging bodies topped with messy, grey-flecked hair.

And here's the thing. Caring for humans is really fucking important. It may be the most important thing, yet our American culture treats caretaking as a task unworthy of monetary value. We give it lip service in the public sphere, but when it comes right to it -- we snub nurses, teachers, and daycare providers. We tell them their pursuits are noble, turn to them in our neediest, and most vulnerable times, yet we overwork them, pay them next to nothing, and treat them as less than the professionals that they are. We tell them to carve time for themselves out of the scraps of other people's demands. We imply their gift for caring for the sick, the infirm, the young, the vulnerable has no limit. Their patience and strength are endless.

And for stay at home parents, we all wonder, "what do you do all day?" We assume there is time enough for them to tend to their own needs, wants, and desires. We look down at the stay-at-home parent that takes time away from their children to go to the gym, pursue their passions, sleep in their beds, or go to the bathroom (ALONE) with the door locked! In my own experience, when I was in the throes of sleep deprivation with a toddler that would wake 2-3 times each night, I was told that I get to hang out in my pajamas all day, so I don't *really* need a full night of sleep each night. The implication from that statement is that my work isn't "real work" because I don't leave the house and bring home a paycheck. To say I was upset by this feedback is an understatement. Spending all day with a pre-schooler and a toddler while being sleep deprived had me feeling less than human. It made me unable to advocate for myself because I did not even know how to put into words what I needed. I was barely surviving and it showed in my parenting and in my marriage.

Further, if we take time off or give up our careers entirely in order to stay home with our children, there is a underlying sentiment that we are "wasting" our career potential. The most extreme version of this sentiment is how we view so-called "Welfare Queens" who are considered the ultimate slackers. We are doing the important work of caring for babies, and toddlers, and little humans who will become our doctors, plumbers, factory workers, teachers, politicians, and shapers of society in the future, yet we are wasting our potential? Because our work is not profitable? Or quantifiable? I would say not raising an asshole is pretty fucking important work. WE SEE WHAT HAPPENS.

But maybe there should be a way for us to have families and pursue a career without sending our children away for 10+ hours a day for thousands of dollars a month. Maybe there should be more flexibility in how we work. Maybe we shouldn't expect employees to be indestructible automatons that don't get sick, or have family members that get sick, or need to sleep during nighttime hours. Maybe profit margins, corporate salaries, and shareholders shouldn't take precedence over the human resources that make all of those possible. Shouldn't there be a priority on work-life balance? None of us can work as if we have no self or obligations outside of our employer-paid hours.

Burnout tends to all of this -- how to truly care for your whole self within a culture that doesn't value taking care of the whole person. Our culture constantly tells us to achieve more, be more, do more -- all while looking a certain way and being filled with fucking gratitude the whole time. In doing so, we feel like impostors and we are exhausted from the effort.

Life is hard. For each of us in a multitude of ways, life is hard. We have all got to prioritize the ability to oscillate between work and play and rest. This requires less coffee, wine, and carbs and more reaching out, asking for help, and connecting with each other. I think a life well-lived looks a lot less like awards, promotions, raises, busyness, or achievements, but like health, laughter, presence, pause, integrity, honesty, connection, and community. I am working hard toward the latter, and making many mistakes along the way. In the meantime, I am not ever going to feel guilt or shame about treating myself as a human being worthy of care, attention, grace, compassion, and a full night's rest. Nor will I judge another for the same. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Our Tiny House

I have to admit I wasn't looking forward to this year's summer break from school. I feared I was in for 2 1/2 months of constant bickering between my boys. I haven't loved tiny house living either. But the Lord works in mysterious ways and I find myself full of absolute gratitude for the summer the boys and I have had.

T.I. Park Pavillion

I recently flew from Iowa to New York and back with my two boys, ages 4 and 17 months, for a two-week visit with my family. Just me and my two busy, curious boys. Oh how I wished I was a celebrity with a nanny for each child and perhaps even a private plane.

In the weeks leading up to the trip I worried -- A LOT -- about how to get two squirmy, active little humans -- and our luggage -- through security, on and off planes, and through airports over many hours with as few mommy or kiddo meltdowns as possible. What follows are my tips for making the journey as smooth as possible even with gate changes, delayed flights, and other snags that can pop up when traveling.

My mind is a blur of thought these days. In October of last year, I made the decision to quit coaching CrossFit and stay home full time to care for Bman (and grow increasingly larger during the last months of my pregnancy with our second child). It was a sea change for me. When I confirmed my pregnancy around this time last year, it was a relief and a terror. Relief that the Mister and I no longer needed to debate whether to have a second child. Terror that we were about to upset the "new normal" we fought so hard to establish after the birth of Bman. Neither of these feelings is revolutionary or unique to us as parents.

Y'all, 2016 is going to be a big year. Baby #2 is about 6 weeks away from entering this world; so really, any day our family will grow by two extra feet. I'm already exhausted. I feel terrible for Bman and the Mister. My functioning as a Mom and Partner have been...subpar. I mean, no one is starving, abused, or dying, but I'm certainly not as enthusiastic or motivated as when I am not pregnant.

Sunset from our cottage deck

This month, The Mister, Bman, and I experienced our first full-on family vacation. It was a learning experience, to say the least. On the whole, the trip went well and we made some wonderful memories in one of my most favorite places on Earth.

She looks thrilled.

I realize that I have not posted on here in quite some time. I write a blog post mostly every day for the gym the Mister and I own, so there is not always much left in the tank for me to share personal stories. Lately, though, I keep thinking about "Moms of the Past". Pioneer moms. Shipboard moms of the Mayflower, or Titantic (clearly one was a more successful voyage than the other, for the ship at least). Depression moms of the 1930s (not depressed moms of every era). Rich Moms. Poor Moms. Pre-Pinterest and internet Moms. Our own mothers.

One Year. Babies warp time. Somehow this was the slowest, and swiftest, passage of time in my life. I cannot imagine how that is so - it can only be magic.

This little dude turned 8 months old on the 17th this month and he is movin' and groovin'! I clocked him at at record 15 seconds of free-standing, with some unsupported squats thrown in for good measure. I think it is not too long before he's a walkin' round these here parts.

Bman at 3 months, ready for a fall walk

Well, around this time last year, I certainly had some thoughts on pregnancy. I tell you now, motherhood seems infinitely easier than pregnancy. I can move my body the way I want to, I can be the CrossFit coach I want to be, and there is no time for anxiety because there is only time to take action. If Bman needs food, or sleep, or diapering, or a change of scenery, then there is no worrying over what might be. I can only address what is.