Vol. 54 - Me Time

On remembering who you are

I’m going to race my bike this weekend.

Nothing big. Nothing epic. That trip’s not for a few more months.

A few hours racing my mountain bike through a nearby trail system. Given the early-ish start time and the two-and-a-half-hour drive from our home to the trails at the National Whitewater Center I thought about leaving Friday night and staying with friends in Charlotte.

But in the end, I’ll probably just wake up as early as I always do (it’s 4:45 on a Monday morning as I write this) and head to the race. I’ll be home before naptime, able to snuggle in with my son for the weekend naps together that I find myself looking forward to than most anything else. In the end, I should only be gone for a few hours.

But those are a few hours that for the last few years, and thanks to our having babies, never really existed.

If children are a full-time job, babies are a full-time job plus overtime plus weekend work plus a few extra side hustles.

But now that our babies are getting a bit older, Emily and I have started to focus on me time.

(To be clear, not us time. Though we are doing a bit more of that. In fact, next weekend, we’re getting on a plane! Just the two of us. And just for one night, for a grand total of about eighteen hours. But… whoa.)

Just yesterday, Emily spent the morning hiking with two dear friends. The night before, I went to go see my friends’ band, on tour from Jersey, play at a local club. The night before that, I played my own show (Emily came. A bit of us time. But mostly me time) with a new band I’ve been playing in. We practice on Friday afternoons, before my kids get out of daycare. It’s a bit me time. And now, Saturday, a bike race. And just as I, Emily has some me time of her own planned this spring and summer.

Me time requires a lot. It requires planning, it requires an understanding and supportive partner willing to shoulder the load of parenting for any number of hours (and sometimes days). It requires a bit of sacrifice on my part, as selfish as that sounds. Because, yeah, sometimes I’d much rather take my son to the playground than go race my bike or crack a few beers at band practice. But I know those bike races and those band practices are an important part of who I am. And who I am is something I’m slowly getting back to.

Throughout the process of raising young children, there are few things easier than losing sight of yourself. (Losing sight of your relationship is right up there.) It’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s one of the easiest sacrifices I’ve ever had to make.

I never once looked at my guitars, silently apologizing that I’ve been neglecting them in favor of being a dad. Never once felt bad about what a shitty friend being a new parent made me. Never thought, “I’d rather be out riding than here holding my babies.”

Which is why, once you’re in a position to do so, focusing on me time is essential. Because putting them before you is kind of the whole deal. And eventually, it becomes so routine, so ingrained in you, you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

Often, I remind myself that sometime very soon, my son and my daughter are not going to want to hang out with their dad as much as they do now. That sometime very soon, friends and extracurriculars and their me time are going to take the place of ice cream and playground dates and snuggles on the couch with dad. Someday very soon, they’re going to leave our home for good. And all I’ll have is me time.

And I wonder what I’ll do with all of my me time then. I dream of multi-day bike tours with Emily. I dream of someday getting back in the van, the way I’ve done for hundreds and thousands of days in my life, and going on a little rock and roll tours with my band. I dream of new hobbies and passions I can’t even imagine yet. I dream of reading. I dream of doing the things that make me me.

For now, those things are squeezed in, hemmed between the joys of being a dad to my babies. But they’re slowly becoming once again part of my routine; slowly becoming things I do for myself and myself alone. Things I do my best to provide time and support for Emily to do herself.

Just because you have kids doesn’t mean you stop being you. It just means you have to put you on hold for a little while. And it comes back. Slowly, at first. And then, perhaps, all at once.

Anyway, wish my luck this weekend. I haven’t been riding my bike very much since our daughter arrived. It’s something I’m trying to do more of. Some of that beautiful, carefree me time.