This is the worst kind of regret

How do you live your life? WHOA deep question right off the bat, right?! Sorry about that, but it’s a question that I have to ask. I have to ask it because for years I was living my life as a spectator instead of a participant and didn't even realize it. Most of the time I spent with my family was of me watching them have fun. Most of the time I was there and never really missed anything, but the sad reality is that I missed nearly everything because all too often, I simply watched. This created fear and anxiety of life slipping through my fingers. It’s one of my only regrets in life. I don’t regret the many mistakes I made in my twenties, the bad hairdos in my thirties or even countless arguments with my husband. I regret not participating fully in my kids’ life.

It’s a bit ironic that I’m sitting poolside watching my kids and husband play in the pool while writing this. This used to be my regular conscious choice: to sit poolside and watch my life. It was a combination of a few things; not wanting to get wet or dirty, be inconvenienced or letting stress and anxiety be the dictator of my life. It was easy to always be the one who sat poolside. It was easy to be the one who always took pictures and simply watched. Today, as I sit poolside to write this, I can honestly say that it’s simply a function of a forgetful mind. I busily packed for everyone else in my family (yes I help my husband pack) for our little weekend getaway, remembering everyone’s toothbrush, favorite stuffed animal, coloring books and reading books as well as phone chargers and snacks and forgot my bathing suit! I will be honest and say that I’m not a fan of swimming (even though I grew up near lakes I never learned how to swim beyond the doggy paddle), but in recent years I have made a point to put my swimsuit on and get in the pool.

This has actually put my kids in a state of confusion, saying in awe, “you’re going in with us?!”

My cool response would be, “of course” as if it was a regular occurrence and they were the crazy ones for asking the question! I know I know, kind of a bad mom moment!

Last year on our Disney World trip, we went to Hollywood Studios first. As we walked the crowded street listening to Christmas music and watching the fake snow come down with more excitement than the real deal, we stopped to ride our first ride; the Tower of Terror. I need to pause and tell you that there are two things I thoroughly dislike in life. The first is being scared and the second is being dizzy and feeling like I’m going to throw up. With a name like the Tower of Terror, I knew I would get both. Using our fast pass we were able to jump ahead of a whole bunch of people as the kids talked with anticipation about how scary and fun it was going to be.

“Oh my gosh I’m going to scream my head off,“ said Ivy.

“Me too” agreed Ian with a very distinct nervous giggle in his tone.

I chimed in and said, “Oh my goodness what if I pee my pants!”

As quick as they both laughed, they stopped and twisted their cute little faces toward me like they just saw their first ghost on the ride.

“Wait, you’re going with us?!” Ivy screamed in amazement.

“I sure am and I think I might throw up!” Both kids screamed and hugged me with gratitude. My kids’ joy overwhelmed me with a feeling of “finally I’m part of my own family” and all at once poked me with embarrassment for living the way I had previously been living.

Being a spectator in my life started as a stress-induced, first time mom survival mechanism. It was our family MO for Ken (my husband) and Ivy to play on the floor in the living room while I frantically cleaned the house. It’s important to note that Ken and I shared household duties since we both worked full time, so me doing busy-unimportant work while they happily played was a choice I made. To cut myself some slack though, it really was out of survival and purely out of what I thought a mom was supposed to do. It was non-negotiable for me to skip a day of sweeping or a week of mopping back then. Today, I can tell you I mopped my floor about three-ish weeks and it absolutely shows! If you came to my house, you might not let your crawling baby out of your hands. But to me, this represents a new found freedom and progress.

It was so normal for me to be the spectator of my life that any time there was anything remotely fun going on, my kids automatically looked for Daddy. There were even plenty of moments where I would come up with a fun idea and they’d go running to Daddy to bring the idea to life. The division of roles wasn’t even evident to me until I started seeing pictures of fun times we had and I was in nearly none of them. For years, I brushed it off as normal and decided to make it a mission to be in more pictures. I know plenty of moms who are the designated photographers in their family, so this is not the sole criterion for being a spectator in your own life. After I realized I was hardly ever in pictures, there was only one thing to start doing, right? Yup, I made sure to remind my husband to take pictures of me! The only thing that this actually accomplished though, was making it look like I was participating my life. Boy, did my Facebook feed look great!

Years ago I began noticing my non-participatory mom-style in everything. When I was cooking dinner and not fully listening to my kids tell me a story. When I was tired and complacent and tried to secretly scroll Facebook when I was supposed to be building a block tower with Ian. Ken and our two kids were always going outside to play and I’d stay inside to “get stuff done”. It might sound odd, but I didn't know how to change it when I first started noticing my mom-mishap. I didn't know how to participate. I was scared to participate. I mean, Ken had always been the fun one...what if I wasn't fun? What if my kids didn't want to spend time with me?

Truthfully (and I hate to admit this) it wasn’t until my midlife crisis 2017/2018 that I truly realized I was letting life pass me by. I was simply scrolling through my life like I scroll through Facebook. Occasionally commenting and liking stuff but not actually doing the stuff! It must be said that I use the word crisis rather jokingly. Sometimes what seems like a crisis in the moment becomes a gift from God. For me, my midlife crisis was an awakening and hands down the best thing to happen to me. My crisis opened my eyes to what truly matters. It opened my eyes to being a participant in my own life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known that family is most important and my kids will grow up in the blink of an eye. I've always been well-aware that cultivating meaningful relationships makes a meaningful life. That’s all Life 101 stuff right? I mean, if you’re not aware of that stuff and publicly talk about it then you’re a cold-hearted bitch with no priorities, am I right?

Participating in your life is more than just knowing what’s important and saying it. It’s more than taking tons of pictures and being in the pictures. To be a participant in your life, you don't have to love every second. For me, participating my life means that I’m getting my hands dirty, I’m getting wet and I’m being present with my kids. When I give them, my husband and life my full attention something amazing happens. The anxiety of life moving too fast slips away like the dust bunnies under my refrigerator. Worry fades into the past like the shine of a freshly mopped floor. Regrets of half listening and half paying attention drifts away like the dust on my coffee table.

Like so many other things in life, fear stopped me in being a participant in my own life. Fear of being rejected is what it came down to. Fear of not having the cleanest house and fear of not looking like I have it all together. I'l be honest, this is kind of a scary post to write, I'd love to know that I'm not alone in this mom journey!