Shedding Responsibilities  

I've been working on a skill I think all women need to have in their arsenal. It isn't how to cook the perfect Thanksgiving turkey, or throw the ultimate 3rd birthday party for your son, or clean the house so well it doesn't look like anyone lives there.

It's learning how to say no.

This has been a tough skill for me, particularly since I left my formal job over a year ago. When I left the 9-5 rat race, I assumed I'd gained 40 free hours in my week, and tried to find worthwhile outlets for those 40 hours.

I became the secretary for my local swim club.

I joined the board of directors for our local chapter of the Ronald McDonald House.

I was voted into the position of president of our homeowners' association.

I signed up to be the room mom at G's preschool.

But the great misnomer about being a stay-at-home -- or in my case, a work-at-home -- mom is that you have great gobs of time on your hands to do anything and everything. A woman who is at home during the day is expected to cook, clean, tend to the children, and on some days, meet her husband by the door after a long day's work holding a beer and his slippers and wearing nothing but a frilly apron.

I quickly learned that leaving my 40-hour-a-week job had not netted me 40 hours of free time. In fact, between caring for my children (which, I'm pretty sure, is a 180-hour-a-week job) and my home, taking on additional freelance work, and occasionally talking to my husband, mother and other family and friends, I quickly realized that I probably had more time -- or at least, better-structured time -- when I was working full-time.

It took me a year, but I finally realized I would have to shed some of the responsibilities I'd naively taken on in the weeks and months after I left my career.

I didn't want to stop volunteering at G's school; I felt it was an important way of showing -- rather than telling -- her that her education matters. Likewise, I didn't want to drop the commitment I'd made to the Ronald McDonald House, as I also felt it was important to show my kids that every person needs to help out in their community.

I literally couldn't afford to cut back on my freelance job -- it helps pay the bills -- nor could I resign as secretary of our pool; that position helps to subsidize our annual membership, which is a luxury I wouldn't want to live without (it might be one of the few luxuries we allow ourselves these days).

Ultimately, I decided to resign as president of our HOA. I chose this option for a variety of reasons, such as my hatred of confrontation and my innate belief that it should not be up to the HOA president -- or any HOA board members, for that matter -- to police the neighborhood like the Libyan police under Gaddafi.

I tendered my resignation last night and it felt gooooooood.

So now I have given myself back an hour or two every week; not much, but enough to make a difference in my life. Of course, I'll probably use that time to catch up on all the episodes of "Glee" and "Modern Family" I've missed this fall, but you know what? It's my time, and -- I've finally learned -- I can do with it what I want!