Stuff to Do

...and sometimes, need to speak but don't. I was leaving the grocery store, and I saw some people talking to each other, and the mum described two of her daughters in one way, and the third in another. It got me to thinking about the words I speak over my children. What do they believe about themselves, because of the things I say to them? For that matter, what do I believe about myself, because of the words I offer to myself? You see, this process of mental reconstruction I'm in, it is not simply a matter of getting rid of unhelpful words. It must also be the adding in of things which build and strengthen me. Likewise, my children need me to NOT be overcritical, but also need me to help them know their strengths. My oldest is incredibly kind-hearted to children and people in need, and wants to make the world a more beautiful, exciting place to be. My second child is fair-minded, and also kind-hearted. My third child is STRONG and determined, and a wonderful artist My

No. That's it, just two little letters. Yet for all my loquaciousness, I choke on it. Harder still is to simply not speak. Where there is something wrong, I am compelled to fix it- usually by feeding someone, and often that someone is ME. I have always been a 'go hard or go home' kind of person. I simply don't know any other way. Doing something less than perfect leaves me feeling defeated and depleted, if not ashamed. Motherhood, homemaking, volunteering - none of them are something I take lightly. If I'm volunteering, I will expend great amounts of energy I don't actually have to make it to every single rehearsal. If I'm mothering, I will cook ALL of the healthy food, obsess about my children's behavioural challenges, read ALL of the parenting books, blogs, articles- and spend a good deal of time feeling rubbish about my own lacklustre performance. If I'm homemaking, I will work myself into exhaustion, then caffeinate and work some more.

One of the benefits of having somewhat odd methods of self-care (cleaning my house) is that when Father's Day rolls around, I can literally do something for someone else that totally counts as self-care. Today I washed the bedroom curtains (using the new detergent that my husband loves), did some more work with my husband for our growing garden, and cleaned the top of the kitchen cupboards (ewww. Two years of filth) and refrigerator. I benefit, because getting a tough job done feels good, and he benefits because it's something he appreciates. Now, my friends, I'm off to the grocery store, to provision for the week, then home to make dinner (vegetarian burritos). Another interesting observation is that when my husband is here, I find self-care easier. When he's away it feels impossible, but is even more vital to the function of our family. I'm forever telling the kids that anything worth doing is worth the effort, so perhaps I need to follow my own advice - futur

In one of the Facebook groups I have joined, a member posted about a September challenge she was doing. I like the idea, and while I tend to commit to things and then realise I have no capacity, I thought I would do my own version, and write about it. Self-care, as you all know from previous posts, is practically painful a bit of a challenge for me, even at the best of times. Well, the quickest way for me to do something is for someone to tell me I can't. Perhaps it's because I spend time with children, but my brain kind of says "Oh yeah? Watch me." I know, right? SO MATURE. Surely I can manage thirty days, though. Self-care for me isn't all pedicures and manicures. It's not a massage (I don't like people touching me), and although my recent mini-break in the city was restorative, it's not a big holiday. No, my self-care is much more basic - things like showering, brushing my teeth, letting my husband buy me things - these are things which take s