When my youngest child embarked on their kindergarten journey a few years back, I suddenly found myself the center of attention. As a stay-at-home parent, my life sparked considerable intrigue among acquaintances. People I hadn’t conversed with in ages were eager to know: what would I do with my newfound free time while the kids were at school?
The expectations were high. Surely, I would pursue a medical degree, jump into a job, or immerse myself in volunteer work. However, my answer of, “I plan to focus on myself for a bit,” didn’t sit well with many. Except for my partner, of course. “Absolutely, darling! Your time to relax means we get to enjoy some quality time together!”
No one seemed interested in my tales of donning my son’s knee pads to scrub grout with a toothbrush (it turns out, pee can stain grout quite effectively) or how dedicated I was to mastering headstands. It left me pondering why my choices felt like public business.
With all my children in school, I had six hours a day for myself, five days a week (excluding teachers’ workshops, school breaks, illnesses, holidays, summer vacations, snow days, and various appointments). Yet, if my kids were home and I dropped them off at daycare for a few hours, somehow that became a topic of scrutiny.
If I choose to breastfeed my four-year-old alongside my newborn in a public setting, that’s my prerogative. However, if I attempt to breastfeed your four-year-old, then we might need to discuss boundaries. Having a glass of wine in front of my child? Not your concern. But if you spot me driving with three kids in the car while sipping from a bottle of red, that’s a different story.
Allowing my ten-year-old to walk half a mile to school with a friend? That’s my choice. Conversely, if I leave my child (or pet) in a hot car while I rush into a store, that’s absolutely your business. A special occasion soda for my child? Not your issue. But if I invite your child over for a playdate, and you mention your family’s vegan lifestyle, yet I serve them a bacon cheeseburger, then you have every right to voice your concern.
If I express myself with colorful language on social media, that’s my choice. But should I refer to your child in a less-than-pleasant manner, then it becomes an issue. If I decide to take up a night job stripping to fund my kids’ education, that’s my business. However, inviting your child to see my performance? Completely different.
Letting my eight-year-old watch a PG-13 film? My decision. If your daughter ends up binge-watching a horror series with me and has nightmares for weeks, then it is rightfully your concern. Discussing sensitive topics with my four-year-old because of something they overheard? My choice, but if your child spreads that knowledge, then we need to talk.
As I approach my mid-life years without children, that’s my journey. If I attempt to take your child, then we have a serious issue. Allowing my child to eat food off the floor? Not a problem in my book. However, if my child decides to approach your plate and stuff food down their pants, then we both have something to discuss.
In my four decades of life, I’ve discovered that my happiness significantly increases when I maintain my focus on my own affairs. After all, I’m navigating the challenges of parenting two children entering puberty and one who has mastered the art of crafting spitballs at dinner. Clearly, I have enough on my plate without adding your concerns to the mix.
For more insights on parenting and self-care, check out this resource or explore this essential guide for information on home insemination. Additionally, for advice on self insemination, this article is a fantastic resource to consider.