If you ask my close friends to describe me, they would likely mention at some point that I’m a Type-A personality; fondly defined as one who is “outgoing,” “ambitious,” “rigidly organized,” and often an “overachiever.” My husband would say something closer to a “control freak,” but you get the idea.
Parenting four children while working full-time and trying to uphold the day-to-day obligations of keeping the house tidy, feeding everyone, knowing which kid has to be to which play date, sports practices or games (and the locations) is in itself a full-time job. I am constantly walking around my house, trying to tick off a list in my head. My morning mantra usually consists of, “Dishes, dog food, lunches, vacuum. Dishes, dog food, lunches, vacuum” on repeat.
The enormous pressure to keep all the balls in the air and not close out any imaginary tabs running around my head is heavy. It’s so obvious why so many mothers lose themselves while in the thick of child-rearing. Who can do the bare minimum of daily tasks, let alone find time to eat healthy, exercise, read, make time for meaningful relationships and self-care, and so on?
And so, I present to you my Type-A personality, or as my therapist calls me, an overfunctioner. I organize myself with spreadsheets for summer camps and lists (printed on paper, typed on my phone, and built into my calendar) because I have to be, not necessarily because I want to be.
As a result of the uninvited but necessary ever-evolving mental load, I can see myself becoming lost. When people ask me a fun fact, I tend to respond with something that highlights my children. If someone asks me about my hobbies, I fumble to find a response because I don’t take the time to read, or scrapbook, or sing anymore.
I want a break, like so many of us do. A break to not have to answer about what’s for dinner or be responsible for booking the sitter if my husband and I get the rare date night out.
