I suppose there is nothing new about what we did on New Year's Day, especially in the midst of a recession -- revisited the budget, talked about our priorities and how to spend accordingly. Up until then, I figured that joining a gym (plus availing myself of child care at a gym) would be prohibitively expensive for us. Instead, I go running whenever I can with Gabriel in the jogger, and practice yoga a tiny little bit on my own. (When, oh when, can a mother do a sun salutation in peace? Only after bedtime, at which point the sun has gone down, taking my motivation with it).
Sadly, since the ice, snow and very cold temperatures have arrived, I haven't gone running - both because of the slippery terrain and out of concern for one potentially frozen toddler. It's been a few weeks since I've been able to exercise. I am hardly the sporting type, but now I can say with utter confidence - it's very official - the sedentary suburban life is not for me. I notice the effect on my mood, my energy, the way I feel in my body. Not good, not good at all!
But a community rec center just opened near our house with rather reasonable rates, and after Christmas I had determined to put all my holiday gift dollars into buying a few months' membership.
That would have been fine. But what was even better was talking about it with Mike and putting a membership into the budget - figuring out that this was something we could afford, and not something I had to wait for my grandfather to send me his annual Hannukah check in order to do.
The fact that I am not earning any money to contribute to family expenses right now has made some of these kinds of decisions more complicated than I anticipated. Buying things for the children seems a no-brainer, but buying things for me? Making this budget together was a fabulous thing; already it has proved liberating. We budgeted things like a few dollars of petty cash for everyone each week, so that I can buy a cup of coffee without feeling guilty about it. I just can't buy 6 of them. No problem.
So! Back to Sunday, the day I left the children at home and headed out to the rec center to start exercising again. By the time I had filled out the paperwork and figured everything out, I had time for about twenty mellow minutes on the elliptical machine. I read Organic Gardening magazine and dreamed about the spring. I ran into friends. I watched a gang of adorable eight year olds playing basketball with a couple of dads. It really was perfectly lovely.
I drove home, and the children ran to meet me as if I'd been gone for a week. Gabriel waited patiently in the bathroom while I took a shower and we played a little "I see you!" game through the little clear bits of the curtain. I went to the kitchen, oozing contentment, and began chopping vegetables for dinner.
Gabriel took up his usual train tracking near the stove and Frances announced one of her bands was performing this evening. She was feeling a little wacky and began galloping with very heavy feet around the first floor, shouting/singing all kinds of outrageous songs, making up the words as she went in giant circles. Some of them were so amazing I had to put down my knife and grab the computer in order to document the lyrics:
This was delivered in a sort of little girl falsetto, with a lot of American Idol-style melisma:
I I I love you
I will always love you in my life
I love you in your dreams
I love you when you're awake
no matter if you're changed I love you
I would love you in a different state of mind
in my spirit
in my spirit
If I saw 10,000 people I would always love you you
YOU!!!!
There she is, singing on the run. And here is another song, more shouted than sung, to the rhythm of the galloping feet:
you are not suspicious!
I would love you if you were in a court of dishes!
I am not sincerely renowned
but you you are so magical and right
I would shine you in the eye
you love me!
At which point Frances paused for breath, broke out of her lunatic band routine, and said, Mama, this song has a lot of metaphors in it, doesn't it?? Do you know, that song was called The Metaphors of Magical People!
Now, Gabriel was completely mesmerized by this performance. He stood, frozen in place, a train car in each chubby hand, and each time Frances passed by a little open-mouthed smile registered on his face. Finally he found his voice and made a request. Dinosaur Song! Didi sing it! Dinosaur Song! And so she did:
I am a dinosaur
I come to eat you up!
I am a mean dinosaur!
I live far away in Austr-a-li-a!
DINOSAUR!
(an aside to me, mid-song: Mama, this one is hip hop.)
I wish I lived in Lancaster, very far from Australia
I wish there were no dinosaurs
I wish there were no dinosaurs
I love you
but I don't love you in a good way
DINOSAUR!
Gabriel and I both really liked the dinosaur song, but when I asked if she could sing it again, she told me no she could not, because it scared her too much to sing that song.
She was serious.
I know there probably isn't any connection between my inaugural trip to the rec center and the extraordinary, exuberant performance Gabriel and I were treated to that evening. Or maybe there was. It sure felt that way to me.
Finding a way to get back to regular exercise was a great relief. Even though money is tight, taking care of myself matters that much. Strolling in and handing over my credit card felt like a gesture of self respect. Later, at home, I was still glowing with that feeling. The children picked up on it, and Frances then self-respected herself all the way to an imaginary frenzied rock and roll performance that I actually would have paid to see. I would have taken the tickets out of the entertainment part of the budget, without a second thought.
5 comments:
AWESOME! Great, great post. So, so happy to hear about the gym membership. YES! And the songs... just amazing. Brilliant.
Oh my! Oh how I love that amazing little girl! What a mind. I'm so glad you grabbed the computer and took dictation. All that wonderfulness gets lost so quickly and what a shame that would be.
I could see it all playing out in front of me - Gabriel with his trains and his incredulous smile just standing there waiting for Didi to go full-circle, Frances going wacky and wild and singing in her full voice. What a picture. I love this post. I laughed out loud. I think I'll print it and send it to Poppy.
Clearly, Frances is a poet. Maybe if we didn't have to lose touch with our four-year old minds, poetry would be all around us.
What really struck me in this post, though, was the talk of budgeting. It's been a long time since I've tackled a budget. In my pre-child days, I would be all over this task, but since becoming a stay at home mom, I think I've avoided the subject entirely. Ceasing my financial contribution to the family's expenses has been a psychological hurdle. Part of being a grown up is paying your own way, right? In fact, one of the primary reasons I chose to work part time is so that I could feel entitled to that cup of coffee you mention. This is a blockade I set up entirely myself. I'm sure that Mike and Gregory and all liberated parents supporting their partners would agree that we're entitled to coffee, haircuts, and all the other small expenses that make life more comfortable. I've so fully internalized the value or receiving paycheck, it's hard to see myself being dependent on someone else.
Emily, I know exactly what you mean. I too struggle with this one, and I didn't think I would. There have been plenty of times in our relationship when I was the primary breadwinner and contributed considerably more, but Mike always had a small fellowship or bits of freelance work or *something*. It seems strange to be entirely without income for me.
And the money is pretty tight, so things like coffee and haircuts seem like indulgences to me as well - but I realize a part of me was also resentful that I was being denied (or really, denying myself) those tiny luxuries. I can't tell you what a positive thing it was to talk openly with Mike about it, since so much of the logic of all this had been private. And yes, Mike totally thought cups of coffee and gym memberships were important and that we should just decide together how to spend on them.
And when you stand back, it does seem entirely reasonable - given how much work taking care of children is, and how you would be paying someone else quite a lot to do it if you weren't! And in a deeper way, because what you are doing matters so much, and of course Gregory wants you to be happy and feel able to care for yourself.
Right? We decided on $5 petty cash for me, and $5 for the kids each week. So a cup of coffee, maybe even a magazine (woah - haven't done that yet), a bagel on the go for Gabriel, whatever, and feeling totally okay about it.
Hey Meagan,
Oh! I loved this post. So sweet....so dear....so close to my own life. I was a combination of tears in eyes and a giant smile just reading and envisioning it all. How I wish we were still neighbors. I think Frances and Julian would really rock out. :)
HUGS!!!
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