On No Longer Being The Red Hen

A few months ago, Sister Butterfly and I were listening to the audiobook, "The Little Red Hen." You might be familiar with the story. The hard-working hen asked for help to make her wheat flour from scratch, but was refused by the dog, cat, and mouse simply because they'd rather rest. When the hen eventually bent over backwards to make the wheat flour herself, she made a fabulous cake out of it. Feeling resentful that no one helped her, she decided not to share the cake and ate it all by herself! 

"The hen sounded really upset. Do you think the other animals should have helped her?" I asked Sister Butterfly. 

"Nope." She answered confidently. 

I sighed. Let's be honest. I gasped. I tried to keep an open-minded tone, really I did. But I had my own feelings. As a mom who does most all the cooking, cleaning, and full time caregiving around the clock, there are days I can relate with the hen's exasperated expression on her face. All this little red hen wanted was a little help! I was glad she kept that delicious cake to herself - hear hear!

"But shouldn't we all work together and be thoughtful of one another?" I questioned her, barely managing to not sound annoyed.  

"Well, yeah. But maybe the mouse, cat, and dog just needed to rest, Mama." 

Sister Butterfly floated off to get herself a snack from the cupboard, while I was left feeling like a 4 year old just explained a concept I've been trying to grasp for a decade. And so simply. 

Was Sister Butterfly on to something? What if the hen wasn't the heroine of the story? What if we were all more like the mouse, knowing when to say "no" and resting by the warm fire with a cozy sweater more often? And what if the red hen decided to enjoy making a cake from scratch? If not, I know of this local bakery that has the most delicious cakes you've ever tasted. 

During Brother Butterfly's nap, I journaled:
How rest looks for my children: they go to sleep when they are tired, and sleep a full 12 hours most nights. They take naps. They curl up in my lap and rest their heads. They are not over-scheduled and that's intentional. So sometimes they get bored - then they either rest more or become very creative. Those two glow when they are well-rested. 

So why was I drinking cup after cup of coffee all day, stuffing my face with chocolates for more energy, and barely getting 6 hours of sleep each night? Why wasn't I making time for naps and opportunities for doing glorious nothing? 

I jotted down more notes, now writing with more clarity: My children have plenty of time to enjoy life: They have slow mornings tinkering with toys. They climb and run and swing outside most days with big smiles on their faces. They curl up with good books. They imagine games and shriek with delight about roaring lions and magic moonstones and fire-breathing dragons. They are allowed uninterrupted time to pursue their interests. 

Me: Bah! I'll get to "me" later. There is just not enough time right now. Isn't it a little selfish to do things for myself when I have 2 small children who need me? Maybe I'll get a manicure soon. 

Months later, I now find myself on a journey to be more like that cool little mouse, at least for a few hours a day. I'm resting more often, and learning the importance of self care. I give myself plenty of time to take rose-scented baths, read inspiring books, walk in nature, work out at the gym, or whatever feels good! I curl up to my Netflix fireplace each evening and leave dishes in the sink and leave social media alone so I can feel bored. I'm taking classes I enjoy and walking barefoot in the grass and do little things that bring me joy each day. I get creative and write short stories. And I'm learning the importance of saying, "no" when I don't want to do things. I'm also learning to stand up for myself when I'm not respected. 

Some days I'm still that little red hen, stretching myself thin and feeling exhausted and resentful. But now I'm starting to see, when I find time to be the mouse, I have much more joy in my life, understanding of others, and love for myself.