What’s your ideal Saturday morning? Are you doing those things this morning? Why not?
Okay, the first thing I have to say here is that I intensely dislike the whole concept of “me time.” I believe it reflects the incredibly self-centered lifestyle some people have bought into. The social shrinks (and don’t forget, I AM a “shrink”) have convinced some of us that if we don’t take time for ourselves, then we can’t be effective anywhere else–home, work, socially.
The picture in my mind is of some gym-toned socialite with gilded everything, from hair to teeth to toenails, dressed in ridiculously expensive clothing that she’ll wear only once, as she goes about her daily schedule of telling the nanny how to care for her children while she runs out to her next appointment to be pampered.
Okay, so maybe that’s a little harsh.
Our mothers and grandmothers didn’t worry about “me” time. They enjoyed, perhaps, having a few moments of quiet at the beginning or ending of their day. I know that my mom, epecially as she grew older, did not appreciate being interrupted while she was reading her Bible, and everyone knew to leave her alone at that time in her day. But those women were not centered on whether or not they got their ME time. They were centered on whether or not they got the tasks of the day accomplished; whether or not there was going to be enough money for groceries; whether or not there would be time during the week for a sewing project they wanted to do.
There was plenty of socializing in those days. The telephone was invented a long time ago, after all. There were gatherings of women who just visited together, or worked on a project together. There were shopping expeditions that I was delighted NOT to be a part of. I still don’t like to shop. Blech.
I’ve always been able to find time to be alone, if only for a few minutes. When my kids were all still home and I was working full time as a teacher, I was up at 5 a.m. The kids didn’t start stirring around until 6. That gave me time for a quiet cup of coffee and a half hour of Bible and prayer before I hit the shower and started my busy day. Was that “me” time? I suppose. I just thought of it as my quiet time, the time I needed to get myself settled so I wouldn’t be drop-kicking teenagers into a Minnesota snowbank.
At this stage of my life, my husband is retired. He’s home a LOT. Sometimes it’s mildly annoying. Sometimes it drives me to complete distraction. It’s harder for me to find that solitude now. For instance, I’ve been sitting in the living room working on my laptop, hoping to finish this post before Terry gets up, because he’s a morning chatterbox.
No such luck. He’s up, sitting across from me, chattering about barometric pressure. He’s fascinated by all things weather, and all I want to know is if it’s EVER going to warm up again in this cold-blitzed winter. Just that fact that I’m complaining about the cold tells you a lot about how cold it’s been. I don’t think I’ve ever minded it as much as I do this year.
Rabbit trail. But see, that’s what he does to me, and he doesn’t even have a clue.
Okay, he just left to fix his breakfast. Maybe I can finish now.
Anyway. It seems to me that today too many women are more concerned about their mani-pedis and their streaks and highlights, their gym trainers and their abs and obliques, than they are about whether or not our country is going you-know-where in a handbasket.
I’m not against people taking some time to restore, rest, recharge. I’m going to do that myself in April, taking a week off with two special friends to go soak up some sun and ocean on the Gulf. I can’t wait! Thing is, I’ve never done anything like this before, and I’ll be 68 soon. It has not been a life habit for me to lavish a lot of time on ME. In spite of that, I think I’m pretty well-adjusted, normal, productive, happy, and happily married.
Even if he is Tigger in the morning, to my Eeyor.
I guess I think the whole topic is kind of silly. Sorry if that upsets you. I don’t mean to be all judgmental here, I just don’t understand the emphasis on “me time.” At all.
Oh. I forgot. This was supposed to be about Saturdaym mornings. Truth: I do exactly as I please on most Saturdays. I take my sweet time getting up, getting started. I enjoy a leisurely cup of coffee and I don’t worry too much about normal weekend chores until I feel like getting up and moving. Me time? I guess so. I tend to think of it more as a reward for all the years of spending my Saturdays doing the necessary things to make the work-week run smoothly. Life stages, life changes.