There are so many ideas for this blog swimming in my head at any one time, so much so that today I feel compelled to thank you for reading. I’ve found a place of joy in writing lately. It no longer feels like a chore, or something I could only undertake when divine inspiration struck. I’m no longer berating myself for not being able to write every single day. I’m telling myself whatever I post is enough for now, and eventually, I’ll post more.
But that’s beside the point. Just this: thank you for stopping by, and reading these words I sometimes manage to string together. You all are so pretty and very nice, even Robert Downey, Jr. inexplicably stopped by to say thanks.
I’ve wanted to jot something down about nurturing oneself for some time. In this era of my life that consists of precious little sleep but HEAPS of stress (remember Monday when the mayor of our fair town strolled by as my son was throwing a MASSIVE tantrum in front of city hall?), I could surely use a cheat sheet of what to do when I need to pump the brakes and regroup.
I want to ask all of you (and myself): what are we doing to nurture ourselves? It’s a conversation worth having. We’re all busy and tired and overworked and underpaid and dealing with a lot. We’re all expected to be constantly connected but then we’re admonished for scrolling through our emails or our newsfeeds while our kids are twirling at the park. THEY ARE TWIRLING, DAMN YOU. HOW COULD YOU DARE MISS IT ON THIS ONE DAY THAT THIS OTHER MOM WAS BUSY WATCHING AND JUDGING YOU AND NOT EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO HER OWN DAUGHTER’S TWIRLS?!?
LOOK AT US! PLEASE! WE ARE ABOUT TO TWIRL!
(Oh my God, guys: I know I need to get over that stupid meme. But it sort of became the last straw for me in the mommy mind games. Forgive me.)
Now: Nurture. Sans food. Go.
- A shower. When did a ten-minute shower become a gateway to heaven? On most days, I am a filthy, bedraggled mess when J arrives home from work. Perhaps once a week (now that I think of it, maybe once every two), I’ll ask J to take over completely for a few minutes after dinner so I can get clean and get peace.
- A good book or magazine. During spring and summer, I love nothing more than to kick back in a lounge chair by our pool with a few mags or an enthralling novel. Previously, this only happened on the weekends when H was napping, but it was still a fantastic – if short-lived – escape.
- Yoga. I’ll write more about my new life at our local mega-gym soon, but restorative yin yoga has been a welcome addition to my Sunday afternoon. It starts at 1 PM, so typically H is napping, and I’ll take Ailie with me to the kids’ club so J can also have some down time.
- The Gym. I waited and hemmed and hawed about joining this virtual country club for months. Could we afford it? Should we afford it? I finally dove in and I am better for it. I have the smallest amount of time there, just for me. Admittedly, it was not ideal to be called out of my $25 introductory massage on Friday when A was having her first meltdown in the kids’ club. But this is my life. A few minutes of cardio, maybe a smoothie at the cafe, make me better equipped to deal with the daily stressors. I get some much-needed childcare assistance; some time alone with my thoughts, and hopefully my old abs back. Win-win-win.
- Barnes and Noble. If ever there was a definition of my “happy place”, B & N is it. I love nothing more than an hour or two alone there. First, I peruse the shelves, grabbing books from various sections: fiction, non-fiction, business. health. Then, I settle in at the coffee shop. I’ll usually grab a coffee or a cappuccino, and then skim through my finds. I take notes or photos of relevant passages and decide what books I should buy in hard copy or download on my Kindle or borrow from the library. I am completely at peace when surrounded by books. I also love that my husband understands this about me, and he’s helped me create my own library in our home. That’s love.
I’m sure I could come up with a few more, but these seem to be my go-to gems that are all about self-care. What about you?