The kids splashed and giggled in the warm lake water, awkwardly swimming in their bright orange life jackets while I stood on the edge of the boat. I hesitated for just a moment, but then leaped awkwardly off the edge, plunging under the surface before popping up and wiping the water out of my eyes.
“I can’t believe you jumped in!”, Ben said to me as he swam over with Fiona tucked in his arm.
“Really?”, I replied, a little confused to why he would think it was so strange, but then Fiona wanted to come over to my arms, and our conversation ended abruptly, as usual.
As I sorted through what he said, I kept circling back to the time I have spent as a mom. Eight years. Over half of that time, I spent either pregnant or nursing (with a few blissful months in-between), and spent the last two years with a very clingy toddler. That means that doing anything “adventurous” was severely limited, both physically and emotionally. No hot tubs when I was pregnant…nothing that lasted longer than a half an hour when I had an infant or a toddler for that matter…
And honestly, after a while, it just was easier to tell Ben to take the kids on the water slides or on a boat ride or canoeing or swimming or whatever. As soon as I would get my suit on or try to head out to do something “fun”, I would have to take a kid to the bathroom or find a snack or nurse a baby. What was the point?
But this summer, things are different. All three of the kids are relatively independent, I am not on call 24/7 as a feeding machine, and get this…they can sometimes even get their own snacks. And I am finding myself re-learning how to live a little bit, and I do mean “learning”. Saying “no” quickly becomes a habit, and I still turn down things that could be “fun” because the kids might need me, even though they don’t, and they shouldn’t…at least not every second. (They are learning that too.)
So I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that Ben expects me to just say “no” too, because I have done it for so long. And I suppose that it would be a little surprising if I suddenly started doing things that seem out of character. I would have never jumped off a pontoon boat into a lake to go swimming, even last summer. But I did, just this last weekend, and got the frizzy, lake tangled hair to prove it.
“Motherhood” often is synonymous with the word “sacrifice”, and I wholeheartedly agree. I would give up whatever I needed to for my kids. But what it doesn’t mean is “unnecessary sacrifice”, and I am beginning to understand what the difference means. Giving up my time to listen, play, and cuddle? Absolutely. Denying myself a bit of evening swimming just in case they need me to be dry on the boat? Probably not.
I swam around for a while, chasing Parker and searching for “warm spots” while Ben got out with Madi and Fiona. A little while later, Fiona had to go to the bathroom…in the middle of the lake…and wouldn’t just go in the water.
But that’s another story for another day…one that required a bit more sacrifice, and a bruised knee to boot…
