How I came to accept that I hate playing with my kids

I hire a babysitter when I don't want to play with my kids. No, I am not a monster.

A mother and daughter.
(Image credit: Illustrated | Keystone View/FPG/Getty Images, Julia Paszkiewicz/iStock)

I have a mental rolodex of babysitters on call. There's Kendra, the nurse who picks up nanny gigs between shifts (I pay her extra because she knows CPR). Then there's Mallory, the jobless millennial who always does all our dishes (I pay her extra too). Sometimes, in a pinch, I text my 13-year-old next door neighbor: "Can you come over and play with the boys for a few hours this afternoon? I need a break!"

As a freelancer-mom hybrid, I schedule a nanny a few days a week so I can get my work done. This feels normal, acceptable. But there are other days when my need for a last-minute babysitter feels equally urgent but more gratuitous. I don't do it because I need to run errands or sneak in some writing time; I do it because I need to reclaim my identity.

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Ashley Abramson

Ashley Abramson is a Minneapolis-based writer. Her articles on health, motherhood, and culture have appeared in The New York Times, Washington Post, New York Magazine, and more.