As my youngest child prepared to embark on her preschool adventure, my mind raced with dreams of the newfound free time that awaited me. I envisioned leisurely strolls past charming antique shops and indulging in blissful moments lounging in the steam room at the gym. “I’m starting to prune,” I imagined sharing with fellow steam room moms on a blissful Thursday morning. “Time to hop out and catch that movie!”
My plans included diving into the Lost Generation section at the library, finally giving life to my long-overdue novel at a quaint local café sans a drive-thru. I could already picture well-tended flower boxes gracing my windows and peaceful car rides filled with nostalgic gangster rap—no squabbles erupting in the backseat as I cruised around town.
Every time I encountered an activity I couldn’t pursue with my kids, I tucked it away in my growing collection of Fantasy Plans. I was convinced that with two mornings a week—two hours and 20 minutes of glorious solitude—my dreams would soon be realized. After two exhausting years of motherhood, my personal recharge was desperately needed; my metaphorical pitcher felt almost empty.
The first week of freedom was quickly consumed by necessary errands, starting with a long-overdue doctor’s appointment. The next day, I had to get the car’s brakes fixed. No problem, I reassured myself; I had a whole year ahead of me.
Then came my middle child’s birthday, demanding cake, gifts, party decorations, and a piñata, leaving me in a frenzy by the time I picked her up on the second day of freedom. But I remained optimistic—this was just the beginning of my glorious mornings ahead.
The following week, my eldest daughter fell prey to the latest viral trend, and I felt my optimism begin to crumble. “What do you mean I can’t leave her if she’s vomiting?” I exclaimed to the teacher, dragging my pale daughter back to the car. “You said all the other kids have it—just give her a trash can and let her sit in the corner! I need my steam room!”
Before I knew it, one commitment led to another. “Absolutely, I’ll help collate the buzz books,” I accidentally told my middle daughter’s teacher. “Of course, I can assist with the book fair setup on Friday!” Suddenly, I was knee-deep in obligations.
“Wait, you need how much homemade purple Play-Doh by tomorrow?” I panicked. “Sure, I can get my teeth cleaned on Friday.” And yes, I would absolutely host a wedding shower at my house this weekend! Amidst all this, I was still trying to figure out how to get my hands on the right size tights for dance class.
Time slipped away, and suddenly it was December. The thought of self-care vanished amidst the chaos of holiday preparations. I found myself racing against time, ensuring every detail was perfect, from matching Christmas jammies to stocking stuffers.
Yet, I clung to the belief that the new year would bring me the freedom I craved—four hours of personal time each week just waiting for me. I promised myself to protect those mornings from any chore or errand that might threaten my precious moments.
However, by February, it became clear that my Fantasy Plans were still just that—fantasies. I spent one morning just trying to find printer ink at three different Office Depots. Our Christmas wreath still hung, albeit covered in cobwebs, and the antique shop was closing its doors for good.
Much like when I first became a parent, I underestimated the time and energy required to keep my household running smoothly. Why did the school need so many cookies? Were we really out of stamps again? And why couldn’t I just remove this mole myself?
As much as I resisted, the lines between my life and my children’s had blurred. Now in the third year of preschool, I’d only attained a few moments of my Fantasy Plans—a walk here, breakfast with a friend there. But I held onto the hope that kindergarten was just two years away, and then I would finally have all the time I could dream of.
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In conclusion, while the chaos of motherhood often leaves little room for personal dreams, the hope for future freedom remains steadfast.
Keyphrase: Mom Dreams of Freedom
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