We all know self care is important, literally every magazine and talk show and women’s empowerment guru will tell you that. And self care means different things to everyone- for some it means working out daily and eating a perfect macrobiotic diet. For others it means coffee til 5pm then switch to wine and just try to survive #momlife. For a rare few it means luxury spa vacations at top resorts all over the globe and nipping and tucking every inch so they do not seem to age. I respect the hell out of all of that, but that’s just not my mf journey.
For me, self care means taking some time out each day to decompress. I know I seem outgoing and social on the ‘gram but I actually have super hermit like tendencies. For every social gathering or gala I attend, I need an equal amount of quiet alone time. I can only be “on” for so long before my brain literally shuts down. So I know at that point I need to come home to my sanctuary, take a hot bubble bath and put on my comfy pajamas.
I don’t know about you, but one of the things I tend to do as a mom is put myself last. I often have to remind myself to put as much effort into doing things for ME as I put into doing things for others. And my own self care is a perfect example. When my kids were little this was a way bigger issue for me, but thankfully as they’ve grown up and become adults I have found the space and time to take better care of myself. I love love love luxurious bubble baths, but when the kids were small there was only one tub in the house and it seemed like such an effort to pick out all the decapitated Barbie heads and tugboat bath toys just to create the oasis that I desperately needed. By the time I cleaned out the tub, I was too tired to really enjoy the bath I had been craving. And those comfy pajamas that are part of my self care routine? Half the time they were workout leggings that had either gotten holes in them or stretched out too much for working out in (for a time there were even an old pair of maternity yoga pants in the mix for loooooong after maternity) paired with a ratty old sweatshirt or t-shirt. Usually one my husband had gotten for free from some work event a decade or so earlier.
This is so NOT acceptable. At the same time this was going on I was buying my kids the most adorable matched pajama sets with little coordinating slippers and eye masks from stores like Justice or Hanna Anderson. So why wasn’t I paying that much love and attention to myself? There’s something so ultra luxurious about taking a hot bath with aromatherapy and then hopping straight into some super cute pajamas that are cozy as hell and also make you feel pretty. Then climb into bed on clean sheets and binge watch your favorite show , eat some comfort snacks and snuggle up with your pet, read your favorite author, play Candy Crush, whatever recharges your batteries.
Go throw your husbands old t-shirt he got from the company picnic is 2005 in the giveaway pile and toss out those bleach stained yoga pants with the hole in the crotch. You deserve the fancy matching pajama set. You deserve a whole drawer of them. Not just at Christmas for a family photo, but the whole damn year.