A Room of My Own
A few months ago, I hit a(nother) crisis point. It was perfectly clear that at his current pace, Ed was going to be writing the dissertation until doomsday. I had tried to be hands-off. Really. I had tried dispassionate distance. I had tried pure bloody-minded blindness. But now we were faced with moving and I got, um, proactive.
There is no higher good, said I, than finishing the dissertation.
To that end, we surrendered evenings together. We surrendered weekends. I gave him my work day. I willingly surrendered the time. It’s just for now. It’s to help us all to an end we all need. He would do the same for me. But what this has meant is that I have been on family/house/moving duty something like ninety percent of the time. And the dissertation is now almost done so it’s been worth it. Definitely. Definitely. Yes.
What is also clear is that it’s taking a toll on me. For in this pattern we’ve adopted (to the greater good of finishing a PhD), there is no room of my own. I have never (except when we had just moved and Daniel was a baby and those were dark days indeed) felt so much like a helpmeet and so little like me.
Things are easing up a little now. But what I am learning is that a room of my own is not about physical space or even free time. It’s about there being space in my head for fluffy or furious pursuits of my own. If there is no room in my self, there is no blogging, no writing, no deep breaths, no strong singing voice of this woman I am, instead of the roles I am.
I honor the mother in myself this mother’s day, as I honor the mother in my friends, my own mother and those around me. But I also honor today the women we are, outside and inside our motherhood.
I clicked on the link “helpmeet”, and was surprised to see “wife” beside helpmate. I then clicked on “helper”, which was also in the helpmate definition and was disenheartened to read “especially : a relatively unskilled worker who assists a skilled worker usually by manual labor”. Does that make “husband” the skilled worker? No wonder people disparage marriage or struggle so hard to make it their own.
I may not, as “wife”, be a skilled worker, but I most certainly am skilled as “mother”. And I am happy.
Happy Mother’s Day for to be a mother one must first and presently be a woman.
ROCK ON to you. I’ve been avoiding all things mother’s day today and generally feeling meh about it. Coming here and reading this is EXACTLY the kind of happy mother’s day wish I needed to hear.
As usual, you hit the nail on the head. Love you (and I miss you… even though you are still here sometimes)
I raise a glass to Stuntmother and all the other strong, wonderful, skilled, amazing women out there, mothers or not.
Aw man. I know that feeling. I know the way that the daily tasks can just eat away at the space in your brain and how hard it is to believe that the space will come back.
I tell myself that it will. I believe it will.
And here I have been feeling morose that you never received the dress and wondering what I could send you (I have had the urge top send cookies, though those won’t travel well.)
Best of luck regaining your headspace once more. You need to adopt the dark days of the newborn mantra : “this will pass, this will pass”.
I agree ‘me-time’ is vital to proper and happy functioning. Round here, everyone suffers if I’m not getting it. But I’m cantankerous like that.
Wishing you a Happy (Stunt) Mother’s Day.
oh yes … you nailed it honey … hope you find your room again soon … hugs!
You made it though the dark dark days of newborn child. It made you stronger (hey,you then survived all that with a toddler too!). You will come though this, with you and your family stronger too. You are fab!
My husband is self-employed meaning he works ALL THE TIME and is at the mercy of his client’s vagaries and whims concerning suitable meeting times. So, I hear you. I am a helpmeet, too, as well as the (on rarer occasion) help-meeted. All part of the bargain, but sometimes it is hard.
I, too, am ready for a room of my own again. Time to be me again. Time to not be mostly a helpmeet – because I don’t mind and in fact revel in being a partial one… but we all need our own pursuits, our own space. Here’s so us both finding that space and the time to be in it. (And yes, you definitely rock.)