Unintentionally a Spectacle

Photo Found Here

Disclaimer:  I am both frugal and modest, and I’m learning that sometimes in attempt to live out one of these ideals, I sacrifice the other.

You know those articles titled something like, “You probably have a Serious Mental Health Issue if you Wear Pajamas All Day”? When those pop into my Facebook feed, I close the window. Immediately.

Because, while I make no attempt to hide the fact that I DO have issues, I’m happiest while wearing my pajamas.

However, a few months ago, I looked in the mirror and my pajama-clad self looked back at me and I finally saw what Matt had been telling me he’d been seeing for months- a lot of skin. The yoga-type pants I had purchased during college (and had continued to wear to sleep for over fifteen years), possessed the appearance of sheer pantyhose. Cheap sheer pantyhose. [You know, like the kind you purchase when the only store you can find is a dollar store and you end up buying four pairs, because you can’t get into the first three pairs without destroying them.] What had begun as a practical attempt to purchase one item I could both covertly wear to class and to sleep, had fifteen years later ended in me being inappropriate in front all the neighborhood high school and college boys (and their parents)!

You may be wondering why I didn’t just believe Matt in the first place. I would have if I had understood his meaning. Matt and I have been married for over a decade, but occasionally he uses his Southern manners and I miss his meaning altogether.

For instance, “It may be time to toss those pants,” was interpreted by me as, “Those pants are no longer attractive,” NOT, “You’re basically naked and you taking the trash out wearing those things is giving the neighborhood kids nightmares. We might have to pay for their therapy.”

Embarrassed, I decided that while I did not think wearing pajamas all day was a sign of depression for me, I HAD hit a new low.

Sometimes I want to laugh out loud when people ask me what I’m currently doing for self-care or about when I get “Me Time.” It’s not that I find these things unimportant. It’s just that I went from having one to having four children in about eighteen months time. Each of these children has very specific needs. Many of their individual needs contrast what their siblings need (and what their parents need). My life is basically a song and dance that results in our family not imploding. [Succeeding beyond “not imploding” isn’t something I’ve had a moment to consider yet.]

What I was realizing through the pants incident is if I wanted to treat others the way I treat myself, I could basically punch others in the face. If I wanted to treat others the way I wanted to be treated, I’d have to take a weekend off to figure out how I wanted to be treated. I was too exhausted to even know.

As if Matt could read my thoughts, he provided me with a weekend away. It was a monumental gift given the intense needs in our house and I didn’t take it lightly.

During that weekend, I came up with a pants plan that didn’t stress me out because plans that stress me out only add to the problem. The plan was simple:  I asked my family to purchase nice pajama pants for me as a birthday gift. I even gave specific direction:  Read the reviews. Make sure they’re cotton. Make sure they’re preshrunk.

The sheer pants quickly revealed more than my legs. Because of the sheer pants, I realized I needed to ask for help. So, I asked for pants AND time for myself for my birthday, and my amazing husband found a way to make both happen.

I guess the lesson I’m learning is that if I want to better know how I should treat others, first I need to get space to know how I want to be treated. [tweet this]

And while neglecting my family is not okay, neither is being naked in front of the neighbors.