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Abstract

homework with us and cooking dinner within 10 minutes of getting home.</p><p id="b7f2">I watched her cook, clean, wash, do the lawn, clean the gutters, and whatever else you have it. Now, she was married at the time, this isn’t a tirade against my stepfather. But why did she do all that?</p><h1 id="5ea1">She did it all because it had to get done.</h1><p id="1dcc">True story, I was out the other day and chit-chatting with a complete stranger while we waited in line. He’d come from the gym and he's telling me he’s trying to figure out what gym class to take when. When I asked if he was training for UFC or something he kind of tried to say under his breath he’s a police officer. Police officers have been getting a lot of heat lately, but my father was an officer for 25 years and I have nothing but respect for the job and the men and women who do it.</p><p id="52c9">Besides the point, though. We continued to chat while we waited and I said how I could never do a job like that or be a fireman like my brother; I don’t want the responsibility. I told him how being a manager was no fun, not just for being responsible for staff that may not want to listen, but also because I wasn’t the real boss. I still had people to answer to, and I hated it. He said, your dad must be one tough guy.</p><p id="45e3">I said, “You should meet my mom.”</p><h1 id="e5a6">Because she is tough as nails.</h1><p id="4ca2">Ooh, I come from a long line of tough women. My paternal grandmother is 88 and still as sharp as ever. She’s the Italian grandmother people warn you about, give you the evil eye.</p><p id="89ff">And my maternal grandmother? She’s as sweet as honey, but don’t cross her. Do not cross her.</p><p id="b46c">My mother? Secretly, I love

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that she can cut through you with a look. She doesn’t always, but she can and she will.</p><h1 id="8ac1">But she will also cook you dinner when she’s exhausted and serve it to you with a smile on her face.</h1><p id="78f9">She thinks of everyone but herself, always. And it’s admirable as hell. But oh, so exhausting.</p><p id="8e80">Because growing up, we gave her hell. Why is a different story, but man, I seriously don’t know how she did it? She did it all too. Vacations and tucked us in every night. Always a smile and a warm hug if you needed it.</p><p id="99b4">Maybe it’s her toughness that she can wear like armor. I might get that from her, depends on who you ask though.</p><h1 id="a91b">I want to show my daughter it’s great to be tough, but it’s equally important to ask for help.</h1><p id="7f91">I don’t think anyone was ever truly in my mother's corner. For reasons, I’m not sure I will ever really understand. But I can tell you that I am now. And we make a formidable team.</p><p id="b05c">But all that running around taking care of everyone else has to end at some point. I still yell at her today because she’s busy doing things she should be asking me to do, but she’s stubborn. And in reality, I should be sending someone else to do those things in my stead too, but I’m stubborn too.</p><p id="7a45">At the end of the day, though, we all need somebody. Someone to count on, someone that will always pull through for us. And you need a helping hand every now and again.</p><p id="8344">Being tough has its day but I want to show my daughter it’s maybe even stronger to rely on someone. That it’s incredibly difficult to be vulnerable, but that it’s so important. That you can’t pour from an empty cup.</p></article></body>

Why I Never Took Care of Myself and Why I Am Now.

In my experience, women were meant to take care of the household, rarely themselves. Now I’m wondering why this was the status quo.

I don’t know what your family dynamic was growing up, but I know what mine was. While I won’t get too heavily into my psyche, that would take years, I can say I know why I never put an emphasis on self-care prior to becoming an adult.

My mother. I love my mother. Like many, she’s not perfect. And as a teenager, there was so much I would’ve changed about her. Don’t worry, I have a daughter now, so my karma on that is coming (haha). But I have a daughter now.

There is not enough emphasis on women taking care of themselves.

There really isn’t. At least not in my world. Now that I have a daughter of my own and a son, I don’t want to set the precedent for her I’ve seen so many women follow.

Now before you go all feminism or anti-feminism, or whatever else on me, just listen. I used to watch my mother wake up at 6 am, drop us off wherever, and be at work by 8 am, and get home at 6 pm.

She would get home and have maybe 5 minutes to get out of her work clothes before being bombarded with “sign this”, “this happened today”, “I can’t find whatever”. She’d get home and be doing homework with us and cooking dinner within 10 minutes of getting home.

I watched her cook, clean, wash, do the lawn, clean the gutters, and whatever else you have it. Now, she was married at the time, this isn’t a tirade against my stepfather. But why did she do all that?

She did it all because it had to get done.

True story, I was out the other day and chit-chatting with a complete stranger while we waited in line. He’d come from the gym and he's telling me he’s trying to figure out what gym class to take when. When I asked if he was training for UFC or something he kind of tried to say under his breath he’s a police officer. Police officers have been getting a lot of heat lately, but my father was an officer for 25 years and I have nothing but respect for the job and the men and women who do it.

Besides the point, though. We continued to chat while we waited and I said how I could never do a job like that or be a fireman like my brother; I don’t want the responsibility. I told him how being a manager was no fun, not just for being responsible for staff that may not want to listen, but also because I wasn’t the real boss. I still had people to answer to, and I hated it. He said, your dad must be one tough guy.

I said, “You should meet my mom.”

Because she is tough as nails.

Ooh, I come from a long line of tough women. My paternal grandmother is 88 and still as sharp as ever. She’s the Italian grandmother people warn you about, give you the evil eye.

And my maternal grandmother? She’s as sweet as honey, but don’t cross her. Do not cross her.

My mother? Secretly, I love that she can cut through you with a look. She doesn’t always, but she can and she will.

But she will also cook you dinner when she’s exhausted and serve it to you with a smile on her face.

She thinks of everyone but herself, always. And it’s admirable as hell. But oh, so exhausting.

Because growing up, we gave her hell. Why is a different story, but man, I seriously don’t know how she did it? She did it all too. Vacations and tucked us in every night. Always a smile and a warm hug if you needed it.

Maybe it’s her toughness that she can wear like armor. I might get that from her, depends on who you ask though.

I want to show my daughter it’s great to be tough, but it’s equally important to ask for help.

I don’t think anyone was ever truly in my mother's corner. For reasons, I’m not sure I will ever really understand. But I can tell you that I am now. And we make a formidable team.

But all that running around taking care of everyone else has to end at some point. I still yell at her today because she’s busy doing things she should be asking me to do, but she’s stubborn. And in reality, I should be sending someone else to do those things in my stead too, but I’m stubborn too.

At the end of the day, though, we all need somebody. Someone to count on, someone that will always pull through for us. And you need a helping hand every now and again.

Being tough has its day but I want to show my daughter it’s maybe even stronger to rely on someone. That it’s incredibly difficult to be vulnerable, but that it’s so important. That you can’t pour from an empty cup.