Taking Time Out

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”

—Anne Lamott

As a parent, there have been more than a few timeouts in my world. With each child, the location may have changed, but the goal was the same. Whenever any of my kids were losing the plot, they were banished. For their own safety and also for my sanity, each one of my children has spent some time in timeout. In just two days, my youngest turns 18. Where is my trophy? Where is the finish line? Where is my shiny medal, my kudos, my recognition?

Oh, wait.

That doesn’t happen in parenting. Why not? Because if you have kids, you are never done. There is no finish line. Which is fine, whatever, but if you’re going to make it through the roller coaster that is parenthood, you’re going to need to take a break now and then. Trust me on this. Just recently, I was in a time management crisis. I had the paid gig to manage, and hey, I like getting paid. Some parenting issues needed to be dealt with because when you have kids, a day without drama is like a day without oxygen; you’re always gasping, sighing or otherwise writhing around incoherently. It’s a given; if you’re a parent who has never experienced this? Just wait. It will happen.

Recently I was knee-deep in the marketing work while also desperately searching for a column topic, and, as always, trying not to be officially deemed the “Worst Mother Ever.” It’s a never-ending struggle for me, but on this particular day, my limit had been reached. There were no more words, no more marketing strategy; I was just at capacity. We all have that line, where, once it’s crossed, we lose it. While there is no scientific evidence of it (and I spent five years as a science journalist, so I know this), it’s definitely possible for a mom’s head to explode. Ask any mother, they’ll tell you.

The words, which are how I pay the bills, were not coming. No ideas, no inspiration, nothing. My answer to this was unconventional but ultimately successful. You see, it was high tide, and a Nor’easter was bearing down on us. Where else would I go but my favorite local pub? Yes, I tucked myself into the Barnacle, with some hot “chowdah” and a cold drink. Because while usually, the “rules” say that work is work and there should be no deviation from that, reality tells us that life is life, and if you don’t take a break now and then, you’ll go cuckoo.

The ocean is my go-to for just about everything, but when there’s a local pub that has good chowder, happy people and a great view of the waves, it’s even more magical. The bar is packed on most days, but throw in a storm, and it’s the hot happening place to be. Also, as a journalist, isn’t it part of my job to be where the action is? To be ready to report on the news of the day? A bloody Mary and some chowder make it more fun, but it is my sacred duty, right? OK, well, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

The thing is, we are always told that when the going gets tough, just keep going. Don’t stop, one foot in front of the other, just keep looking forward, eyes on the prize, never slowing down. Swim, don’t sink (wait, isn’t there a book about that? Yes, there is!) Sorry, but I beg to differ. While I’m no quitter, it must be said that now and then it’s a good idea to step away from all the drama and stress. When I would put my children in time out, it was mostly about me. They needed to be settled in a place where I couldn’t kick their butts, because, as my friend Kristen tells me all the time, I don’t look good in prison orange.

A timeout is as much for the parent as it is for the child. There are likely thousands of kids who owe their lives and their ability to walk upright to the timeout theory of discipline. Personally, there are at least that many parents who should be grateful as well. Whether it’s another day in the throes of child-rearing, pesky office politics, or just one of those days where nothing is going right, you need to stop. Put yourself in a timeout. Maybe it’s a yoga class, a juicy burger, and fries, a cuppa with a friend, or some lousy binge on Netflix, it doesn’t matter. Just stop and give yourself time to readjust. Time to breathe, chill, regroup, and restore. How you get there isn’t the point, just get there. You’ll be glad you did. [Blows whistle] Timeout: Take a break and come back when you’re ready.