Yesterday

Just gotta take a quick minute to give a shout out to all the full time stay at home moms out there. I am a month into maternity leave with our second and 2 days a week I have both girls at home with me all day. I have an end date to this time (which will have its own emotions, and probably its own post) but for now I'm in the thick of it and I just wanted to capture what a day in the life looks like for me right now. Maybe I'll do it a few more times in the first year... maybe I'll forget 😉

Yesterday. Yesterday was really really hard and I felt like a failure. But when I got a moment to breathe, I tried to reframe and give myself some grace. Here is my attempt:

Yesterday morning I slept while my big kid watched way more Netflix than I'd like to admit... but she excitedly told me about the show afterward while we had breakfast together.

Yesterday I told myself I was going to eat healthier to shed the baby weight, but instead finished my daughter's waffle for her and shoved a handful of cookies down my throat before bed... but honestly that was better than the day before.

Yesterday I made a mental to-do list and each time it got majorly derailed... but the things that needed to get done got done.

Yesterday I hid, crying, from my kids, under the guise of taking a shower because I felt like all I had done was yell and scramble around all day... but I got a shower and felt better after, and didn't yell so much when I was done.

Yesterday I was so lonely but decided not to text certain of my friends because I didn't want to burden them with my complaints about my kids and my feelings (again)... but I did text my own mom which felt really good, and later remembered that just as I would be there for them, my friends would've been there for me.

Yesterday I didn't do even half the things I had promised our big kid, or even what I thought we might do together, and I felt guilty... but she did get to play outside on her bike and I got to appreciate her growing skills.

Yesterday I realized how bad I am at playing pretend (I'm really bad at it)... but I realized that our daughter doesn't care, she's just happy I'm going along with it.

Yesterday I wondered if 10:30am was too early for a glass of wine, and then felt ashamed that I had thought that... but then I took some deep breaths and reminded myself I have other coping methods too. And I made myself some tea instead.

Yesterday I felt guilty for being on my phone a few times... but I then I reminded myself that it's ok to expect our daughter to do something by herself for 5 minutes while I take care of a few things. She doesn't need my undivided attention all the time. Just most of the time, which I think I do ok at.

Yesterday I decided I'd try to get the baby to sleep in the bassinet instead of in arms or carseat or stroller every time, and I'd try to help her fall asleep on her own... but after almost 3 hours trying, I nursed her and rocked her and told myself " she's not ready yet." (And she slept 2 of 3 intervals in the bassinet last night and I counted that as a victory)

Yesterday I wanted to get out of the house multiple times, and we didn't make it until after 1:30... but somehow we managed 2 errands in a row with both kids in tow, and arrived to our destination on time.

Yesterday I didn't get the dishes clean or the laundry folded or exercise or cook a proper meal... but I loved on my kids and we painted and we spent the day together, and that's what they need more than anything.

Yesterday was not perfect. Yesterday was really difficult for all of us. Sleep deprivation and kid behaviors and fussy baby and every other thing that could factor into a day, did. But we survived. We'll keep taking one day at a time.

And mamas (and dads too!), whether you're home all day or at work all day or some combination, cheers to us, because we're making it happen one day at a time. Let's give ourselves grace and let ourselves feel all the feelings, and try to embrace our imperfect parenting. We owe it to ourselves. And if you need to reach out to me, please do. I could probably use the conversation just as much as you.

Just a quick walk in the park

So I went for a walk along the river today. In our city, we have a beautiful system of paths, closed to cars, that go along either side of a gorgeous stretch of the Willamette River. I was near a trailhead this morning and decided to take our new baby out for a walk.

We went, and while I enjoyed the exercise, and it was beautiful outside, I can't say it was an ideal experience. For me, it never is, because today, like many other days, I was a woman, alone, and vulnerable.

You see, although I've had my fair share of "run-of-the-mill" #metoo moments (workplace sexism, being approached far too aggressively in bars or getting catcalled), I was assaulted on this same bike path about 10 years ago. I will not describe what happened here, but will share my experience with you if you ask. An important detail is that I had to be encouraged to call the police at all, because I knew they couldn't do anything about it. And when they came to my house to take the report, those suspicions were confirmed, and the female officer could only give me advice on how to attempt to protect myself in the future.

So how did today's walk happen? Let's unpack what it takes for me, a fairly confident white woman in a very white town, to go for a 25 minute walk along the river in broad daylight. (And then I'd encourage us all to think about how much scarier it definitely is for women of color).

I started preparing for the walk last night. Decided I'd wear my red sweatshirt because it's bright - easily visible - and baggy, so it covers most of my body. Nothing skin tight or attractive. I considered packing my headphones, but no, I'd need to hear what is going on around me. Specifically, if someone were to come up behind me. I had to consider that potential situation last night.

I left from the parking lot of my daughter's school, and told 3 different people that we were going for a short walk. So people would know where we were, and expect to see us return in a short amount of time. I had to think about who might realize if something went wrong.

We went at 10am. Bright outside, and not so early that the folks who sleep along the river are just waking up - the reasons they are there are many, and I've witnessed many times how unpredictable people can be on that path. I had to think about what time would be safest.

As soon as we left, I chose the direction that had more people on it. Witnesses. Potential allies. As I walked, I scanned the path almost constantly, including looking over my shoulder to check behind me. I had to think about who else might help me... or potentially harm me.

I watched a man get up off of a park bench, pick up his backpack, and begin walking, slowly, a bit in front of me. Had he seen us? Of course he had. Ok, what do I do? We just got started walking, I don't want to turn around. But there's no one else around. Do I pass him? Do I hover behind him? What do I do when I do get around? I forget... am I supposed to make eye contact, or avoid it? I don't want to look him in the eye. I hate that I have to think about this. Why can't I just go for a walk and enjoy this path like anyone else? Ok, I'm just going to go around him... oh he looked over at us. I can't look, I'll walk a little faster... whew, we made it. I can breathe again. Ok, we're going to be ok.

You guys. This is how it went the entire 25 short minutes I was walking. The constant scanning. The fear every time we passed another man on the path. The quick glance of solidarity every time I made eye contact with another female.

It was infuriating.

Of course I don't believe that every man I pass on the street (or path) is out to get me. I live my life day to day without being threatened or assaulted. In general, I feel safe in my community, and that is a huge privilege I know I have. But I, and so many women I know, live with a base level of fear doing daily activities.

Keys in hand before leaving the store to the parking lot. Glancing over my shoulder everywhere I walk. Walking friends to their cars or into their houses or texting to make sure they got home safely.

And I'm tired. As women, collectively, we're tired.

And pissed off. It made me so angry today that what should've been a beautiful, enjoyable experience was so punctuated by the measures I take (we all take, because I know I'm not the only woman who does these things) to take what on the surface appears to just be a quick, 25 minute walk with my baby in a stroller.

Again, I acknowledge my whiteness, and it scares me to think what my friends  of color experience compared to myself. Makes me consider how I can include making their safety a priority as we begin to sort through a lot of this as a society.

I will probably go for a walk again tomorrow. Along the same path. And I bet many of the other women I saw walking or jogging alone today will too. Because all the precautions are second nature to us. We do those things so we can be outside. And because we hope that one day, we won't have to.