All I wanted was a haircut. I’d done it dozens of times before. Just pop in the car, get pampered for an hour and “Viola!”. My inner beauty queen was released. But this was the first time I had visited the salon — or gone anywhere alone, for that matter — since my first child Molly was born.
I didn’t realize that the order of my universe had radically shifted.
To begin with, I greatly underestimated the incredibly lengthy process of getting ready to go somewhere while attending to a newborn baby. After desperately attempting to get beautiful while jostling, feeding and burping, it began to dawn on me: If I’m ever going to get anywhere outside these four walls again, I might just have to become a “wash-and-go” girl.
And I’m NOT a wash-and-go girl. I’m a “full-makeup, hair-styled, fully-dressed before-I-meet-the world” kind of girl. Gulp. I could feel the knot in my stomach.
Life — and my hair — might never be the same again.
In new motherhood, we must learn to adjust our expectations, of life and ourselves. Can we still have the exact routines, in the exact order, done in the same amount of time? Ummm.. no.
However, we can have them, just broken down into smaller steps and spaced out over a longer timespan. The routines in our life contribute to our well-being. We’re always better moms when we’re not stuck in “martyr” mode.
Instead of meeting a friend for a leisurely lunch at Applebee’s, I opted for peanut butter sandwiches and frequently interrupted conversation while we watching our toddlers play. The adult interaction, no matter how disjointed, saved my soul.
I kept my Bible open in front of me while I blow-dried my hair and soaked up 10 minutes of spiritual sanity. My hair continued to look decent.
Now that the kids are older, I’m still just as busy, but in a different way. I use my never-ending “taxi service” time (shuffling kids to their 1,431 activities) to listen to radio shows I enjoy or interesting or uplifting CDs. I’m giving more and more household chores and responsibility to the kids — and not worrying if it’s done “perfectly.”
Resentment builds like a bomb. It’ll explode when you least expect it.
Ask yourself: How can I still be happy while fulfilling my role as a mother?
Simple. Adjust and be creative. You’ll thank yourself every time you catch a glimpse of healthy hair and a satisfied smile on your face.