Member-only story
Reflections on Identity
On Finding Small Moments of Happiness Amidst the Chaos
How acts of self-care carry us along
Years ago, when I was still married, my husband asked me: what makes you happy?
I had been complaining, again. I was a stay-home mom to three kids, ranging from a toddler to a teenager. Being a mom was hard when I had the first two kids, separated in age by three years, but then after a long break I popped out one more. My life had become a chess game: awaken the finally sleeping baby to pick up the middle schooler from school? Give the baby a bath or help with homework? Let the baby scream in her stroller as I jog to school pick-up, or rescue and carry her but arrive late?
Whichever option I chose, there was a winner and a loser. The baby gurgled in my arms, the tween looked at me scathingly when I arrived breathless and late. The kid got my divided attention with his math worksheet while the baby flooded the bathroom from her perch in the tub. I pinch hit, I cajoled, I begged.
A glass of wine would have taken a bit of the edge off, but then I risked passing out when I put the baby to sleep. Instead, every evening at five, I stuck a can of Diet Pepsi in the freezer until it was so cold that shards of ice started to form inside and then I drank this…
