“Me-time” seems to have become a fairly popular phrase, especially for mums. When Star was a few weeks old, I was asked by a concerned health nurse if I was getting some “me-time”. I have friends who are into regular massages and manicures as “me-time” both pre and post baby. My me-time? It began when I realised I was spending longer and longer in the shower. I found it physically, mentally and emotionally cleansing, and the one place where nobody (read: no baby) would bother me for five minutes. Having a shower meant someone else was home to look after the baby if she started squawking. And so I lingered.
I read somewhere that everybody needs some alone time every day. I like to lie in bed and watch my thoughts drift by at the end of the day. I like to read a book, a real paper book, and rest eyes that are weary from staring at a blinking screen all day. I like to have a cup of tea on the couch. Exciting stuff, you say.
Running is also my me-time but it’s my active me-time, not my veg-out me-time. That’s a difference I’ve come to appreciate of late.
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