If you’ve followed my blog for a while, and you have because you’re awesome, then you’ll know from time to time I talk about self-care.
You’ll also know that recently I said I was going to start posting an extra blog post once a month talking about self-care because it isn’t always about manicures and pedicures.
Sure, it can be. I love making time to do a face mask and buff my skin, slather on lotion and do all those fun things.
But, self-care is…well…often times it isn’t so much an indulgent activity as it is a necessary one. An urgent one, sometimes. An unattainable one, or at the very least elusive. It can be just standing in the shower and breathing in steam. It can be sitting quietly in a dark room. It can be reading a book, going for a walk, buying new toothpaste, wearing fuzzy socks, rewatching a favorite Doctor Who episode, spending a few frivolous minutes gazing at Pinterest and Halloween decor you’ll never have. Window shopping. Clipping your toenails without the interruption of a curious child, cat, or dog.
It isn’t always going to be candlelit and smell of rosewater.
Today, my self-care activity is doing the dishes.
I can wash dishes all day long, so long as I’m not expected to do laundry. I’d rather wash a dozen sinks-worth of dishes than wash, dry, fold, and put away a single load of laundry.
And I’m not talking about loading my dishwasher, either. Because my dishwasher is broken.
I heard you gasp. It’s okay. I will get through this.
So, confession time:
My husband just came home from a week-long business trip to Mexico. He flew out on his birthday, we missed our wedding anniversary (the day after his b-day) and generally, I was just in a crappy mood. I worked overtime every day just because coming home, knowing he wasn’t going to be there, was just…bleh.
So mid-trip, I was cleaning the kitchen and lo and behold, the dishwasher wouldn’t turn on. I was…um…not thrilled. And I know it’s ridiculous, but I just don’t care for inviting maintenance men inside for anything if hubby isn’t home. So, that first night with no dishwasher, I succumbed to my frustration and watched a movie while those dishes remained tucked away in a non-functional dishwasher.
The next night, they did the same. I even added a few to it. I was irritated.
Friday came along and hubby was due home that night and I knew I needed to get to those dishes because it’s not fun to come home from a long absence to find dirty dishes and I also knew whether he attempted to repair the dishwasher or we called the maintenance guys in, those dishes would have to come out.
The funny thing is, I knew all along I actually enjoy washing dishes by hand. I had just decided to play hostess to the dumbest pity party ever and checked out.
So, halfway through the dishes, I was checking on hubby’s second flight of the evening and discovered it was CANCELED. A flurry of text messages and phone calls later, it appeared he was going to go on a mini-tour of the United States and I would have to leave at 4:00 in the morning to pick him up at an airport in North Carolina by 6:00am…so…those few remaining dishes had to wait because I had to go to bed if I was to get up at 3:00 in the morning.
To sum up their travel snafus, that mini-tour didn’t happen and they drove nearly 16 hours, taking turns of course, and arrived home a mere hour earlier than their luggage (ah, hindsight) and they were exhausted. Rightfully.
So, my dishwasher is still broken. Dishes are impossible to avoid, so I have some handwashing to do.
I’ll remember being a little girl and standing on a stepladder, helping rinse and dry the dishes, and the scent of Palmolive will always remind me of my Granny. Sure, Dawn is fine, but Palmolive is sentimental for me.
Those quiet, sudsy and peaceful moments will be appreciated.
Tell me: How are you caring for you? ♥
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