"In Charge"

I always thought being a parent volunteer, or “in charge” was good because then I was more involved with my kids. More active in their lives. After all, I am working at the dance studio that my daughter is taking classes. My husband and I are running the wrestling program that my 3 boys have participated in for almost 10 years. I am homeschooling my children and home interacting with them each day. There was even a time that we were running a small youth group at church on Friday evenings in addition to teaching a Sunday evening catechism class. Obviously these are all great things and this must show them how much they are loved. Besides if I have a talent or past experience, doesn’t this mean that I should offer my services to the powers that be?

Today, I went to my son’s high school to take him for some placement testing. I chatted with a faculty member there who was leaving her job to return home to tend to herself and her family. In fact, today was her last day. I was saddened to talk about her leaving as she had been an important point of contact for me at that school. A very compassionate and wise soul that I trusted. We talked about the difficulties we face trying to “do it all”. Being everything to everyone. Being in nurturing positions and trying to continue to give to others when you are running on empty yourself. It is easy to become overwhelmed. How do you replenish yourself to be able to do for others?

When I left home that morning, I had taken a book with me to sit outside on the school patio to read while I waited. I was excited to think that I didn’t have to drop my son off and run somewhere else quickly like I usually do because I am in charge of something else. But after our talk, I sat with the book in my lap. The sky was so blue and there was a beautiful breeze coming across the Quad. I felt thankful for that conversation. I felt thankful for that moment to sit and feel the breeze. I thought about her decision to leave her job. She was going to simplify her life. I have talked about “simplifying” my life for years. Why was that concept so hard for me? Yes, I have 4 children and that is always going to mean controlled chaos at best. But how did I end up being involved and committed in so many things from a leadership perspective? Why did I feel compelled to be “in charge”? I started thinking about my own mother and my own childhood.

My mother was never the parent “in charge”. She wasn’t PTA President, or Room Mom. She wasn’t a Girl Scout Leader. She rarely volunteered at school, if ever. She didn’t help coach cheerleading or sew costumes for dance. She didn’t chaperone field trips or drive a carpool. She didn’t sign up for any committees or participate in my activities in any form other than being the taxi service or a spectator in my corner. And truthfully, I never gave that a second thought.

Mom was always at home. Growing up, there was never an activity that I couldn’t join because she was “busy” or worked. She was there to pick me up and shuffle me to anything I participated in day after day without question. Dance, cheerleading, babysitting, part-time jobs, friends visits, shopping…whatever it was – she was my ride there and home again. She never came inside and looked for me. She didn’t chat with the other moms or try to make friends with my friends and hang out. She sat quietly in the parking lot and waited for me to be finished. I would come out and she was always cheerful and excited to hear about my day. She was willing to drive me through McDonalds and on to the next activity or home for a freshly prepared and delicious dinner where she would sit with me while I ate talking over the day’s childhood playground crisis or teenage dramas.

Mom took care of everything at home. My clothes were always clean, fresh, pressed and put away in my drawers. I never had to search for a uniform, a leotard or my favorite shirt. The house was always immaculate and the pantry stocked with my favorite foods for packing lunches or after school snacks. Freshly baked cookies and brownies were always in tightly sealed Tupperware and sandwiched neatly between sheets of waxed paper waiting for me to satisfy my chocolate craving. In fact, we didn't have Hostess cupcakes - Mom baked chocolate cupcakes, iced them, wrapped them individually and put them in the freezer. My sheets were constantly washed and crisp on my bed waiting for my weary head to hit the pillow. She always seemed to be one step ahead of any need that I would have. I would want for nothing. I counted on that. My mother was Queen of all homemakers.

One of my favorite memories of growing up was coming home from school and heading straight to my room to put my things away. I had a large desk with shelves. In front of my desk chair, I had a calendar desk pad. Several times a week when Mom had been out shopping, something would be waiting there for me. It was never anything extravagant. It could be bubble gum. It could be a needed school supply. It could be a new plastic insert for my 45s. It could be a new set of multi colored heart shoe laces or a package of barrettes. Whatever it was I loved it and it never got old. I remember walking that hallway every day wondering what might be waiting for me. I loved that she remembered all the details. I felt special. I felt loved.

I didn’t need my mom to run the cheerleading team even though she had been a cheerleader herself. I didn’t need her to volunteer to make dance costumes, even though her sewing was perfection. I didn’t need her to coordinate the class Valentine’s Day party even though her cupcakes would have put Martha Stewart’s to shame. I didn’t need her to have all of my friends to our house on Friday night to be the cool mom and be the house everyone wanted to go to. I knew how cool she was. I didn’t need my mom to run any organizations to further my achievements. I would do just fine on my own because I knew she was in charge at home. I felt safe and I was able to go out and be me because she was at home being her.

I would like to think that I am that kind of a mom. But if I’m really honest - I’m not. I’ve been the so- called “leader”. I’ve been the Coach’s wife, the Team Mom, the Dance Teacher, for goodness sakes, I have even been the Sunday school teacher and main educator. I have tried to maintain a clean home – but it’s not. I have tried to keep up the laundry – but I always forget someone’s uniform, leotard or favorite shirt. I try to keep groceries stocked for lunches or snacks – but ultimately I am running through a drive thru to get something because I didn’t shop that week. Sometimes bed sheets go unchanged for a terribly long time. Most times the convenience of store bought cookies wins out. I have to arrange carpools and I am often irritated when I have to drop off or pick up. My children ask me if they can join activities and I have to tell them no because I can’t commit to the pick up or drop off because I am working. I have missed school choral concerts. I have missed awards assemblies. To be honest, I have missed my own daughter dancing in her Christmas Open Houses for years because I am teaching the dance class in the studio right next to hers. I miss things because I am “in charge”.
I am so busy being “in charge” that I am not in charge of what is most important.

It’s ironic because recently something happened in my life. Decades ago, my childhood bedroom furniture went to the dump. The big canopy bed, my white dresser with gold handles and the desk with it's shelves that were home to dozens of trophies and stuffed animals over the years were gone. However, I kept the chair that went to my desk. It had been repainted and reupholstered a couple of times. But I still had it. In fact, it was the chair that I sat in at this computer to do most of my writing. My husband tried to convince me over the years to get a new office chair. But I held tight to the rickety ole’ white chair. It had a special place in my heart. The other day it finally broke beyond repair and my husband took it to the dump. Now that chair was 37 years old. It was nothing fancy or expensive. But that chair held the memory of coming home from school to find Mom’s little tokens and I really did feel sad when it was time to let it go. Not because I loved the chair, but because I loved the memory. I want my children to have a memory like that. But my fear is that my children will remember how much I did for everyone else that I was "in charge" of.

It occurred to me today, while playing backyard badminton with the family, how much I have been truly enjoying the past couple of weeks. I am not homeschooling. Not teaching dance classes in the evenings. Not running any sports programs on the weekends. I have had time to focus on so many things that I have been putting off while I was “in charge”. I’ve been easily keeping up with chores. Working in my yard. Planting flowers again. Sleepovers are happening at my home because I am not so stingy with my “free” time. My yard is filled with neighborhood kids. The fridge and pantry are stocked weekly. The laundry is not behind. I am not telling my children they can’t do something because I can’t pick them up or take them. Daytrips do not feel overwhelming. I am not in a hurry. I am patient. I am not shushing them. I am not busy telling them how busy I am because I am “in charge”.

I realized this evening that I am no longer fitting them into my schedule because I am “in charge”. I am able to fit myself into their lives the way that they need me. Isn't that what my mother was doing all of those years? I had teachers and coaches. I needed her to be mom. I have felt such a peace. It feels rewarding. It almost feels whimsical. Perhaps the key to being in charge is not being "in charge" - just being Mom.