Megan’s Mom Morning

This morning, I inadvertently dipped my hair in coffee. It’s now day 3 with unwashed hair, and to my realization, today is not the day for a wash either. No time, no energy, and no more cares to give.

Tomorrow, I’ll comb through the crunchy coffee ends of my hair, tie it back, and tackle another day. “No rest for the wicked,” they say. Did they mean no rest for mothers? Not every mother, trust me, I know. My own mother wasn’t the example I am. If I were following her lead, I’d be off living my own life, fighting my ex-husband for kids I don’t want but don’t want to pay for, and enjoying a daily bath or shower without interruptions… but I don’t.

Don’t get me wrong; I am always clean, and I smell fine. I embrace humor and trauma, blurring those lines like a champion. Sharing my hardships, often and openly, allows others to share theirs. So, I write about dipping my already overdue, dry shampoo-ridden hair in coffee.

This incident occurs bright and early, just before I run a meeting in front of 40/50 people, with a full day of clients ahead. #momlife starts right as work ends, consuming every ounce of energy to make it to bed. Then, I resume working for an hour or so before I fall asleep.

The next day is no slower; my house needs cleaning, but that can wait. Work is over, mom life starts. At least my crockpot helps me serve healthy dinners. Bedtime for my son, a board meeting for me, and finally, after 10 pm, I sink into the tub. Boil the water, pour it in, and burn off the last few days. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my sparkling water – who has time to remember things for themselves at the store? I used the very last drop of bubble bath and turned on some trash TV on my iPad.

As I write this blog and listen to reality TV casts argue, I plan for tomorrow and wonder what I’m forgetting. People tell you that “you have to make time for yourself” and “you can’t pour from an empty cup,” but they don’t see the full-time job, full-time child, and his full-time anxiety from his dad moving across the country. Medication, therapy, and new coping mechanisms like church and Boy Scouts fill our days. Take time for me? When? During the two baths or maybe a shower I get every week? When I sit down to pee and try to make three posts for the social media groups I manage? Or during my drive time when I’m calling and answering emails/texts while singing at the top of my lungs or crying? What even is “time for me” when I am the default parent, the responsible one, handling everything from wake-up to bedtime, ensuring nothing is missed?

I forget my own lunch, and most days, I don’t eat more than sucking down coffee or maybe peanut butter crackers that I leave in my car. If my body gets too hungry, I’ll eat those instead of passing out. It may seem like I choose to have a demanding job, but without it, I wouldn’t make ends meet. I choose to join boards and pursue my passion for non-profit work/start-ups because I’m setting an example for my son to change the world and care about others.

I am a mom first, but I am so much more than a mom. I choose to be a leader, an example, a powerhouse. I want to leave a legacy for him and inspire him to grow up curious about the difference he can make. So today, I washed 36-hour-old coffee out of my hair, and I wrote this article from the tub.

 – By Megan Brown


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