Treat Yo’ Self
Last week, my birthday present (from me to me!) was a run on the golf course before the seventh graders arrived bright spanking early at 7:45 to do their end of year assessments at my dining room table. I normally don’t allow myself to run Wednesday mornings because (unless I go when it’s pitch black) it makes for a really rushed morning. And in my experience, rushing leads to me losing my temper with at least one kid and probably more. And then I have to apologize, which takes even more time, and…you see how it goes.
Then, since I’d officially ended the semester with the seventh graders (and no one had died from learning Latin), I celebrated by doing something I’d wanted to do for months: I ran a ten mile loop with a friend out to Trophy Hill (the highest sand dune on base—one guess what holds pride of place at the top). This semester I’ve cut back on the long runs in an effort to maintain some much needed energy, so when I say that these runs felt like treating myself, I really do mean it.
{Side note: when the 7th graders gave me their teacher assessment last week, my two criticisms were that I needed to provide more snacks and that sometimes I’m tired. I wonder how I possibly ended up tired…}
But the looks on people’s faces when I told them that I’d “treated myself” to a ten mile run got me thinking. What makes something a treat? And how can I harness that idea for other things that generally are deemed less as positives and more often as negatives? I guess my question was: how do I change “I have to do that” to “I get to do that”?
This key switch in phrasing is one I’ve been trying to drill into the kids’ heads lately.
Do I have to do school today?
No, you get to do school today.
Do I have to do my chore?
No, you get to do your chore.
Do I have to go to bed?
No, you get to go to bed. (Hallelujah.)
Sometimes, that switch happens without us even realizing it. Suddenly, we’re in our thirties and going to bed is the best “get to” we can dream of. But most of the time, we have to make a concerted effort to change our perspective on the things we get to do versus the things we have to do.
There have been seasons in my life when the things I had to do did not feel at all like the things I wanted to do. I’d wake up in the morning and I wouldn’t want to get out of bed. I’d get up anyway. I wouldn’t want to change diapers. I’d change them anyway. I wouldn’t want to deal with screaming toddlers. I’d deal anyway. Because I was the adult. And part of being an adult means doing things we don’t necessarily want to do—because no one else is coming to do them for you.
But still, I’m thinking: what other things can I treat myself to that most people wouldn’t necessarily see as a treat?
When Twinkle was born, because she was my post-miscarriage baby, middle of the night nursings and twenty gazillion diaper changes and infinity loads of spit up encrusted laundry were no longer things I had to do. They were things I got to do. My perspective had changed because of the loss we’d gone through. Permanently. Sure, the long nights were still long. The diapers still stank. The spit up was still rancid. But my baby was alive. I held her in my arms. I got to do that and everything that can with it.
But sometimes it’s not a matter of perspective. Sometimes it’s a matter of marketing. That’s how I ended up viewing running as a treat. Because I conned myself into believing that it was much needed alone time (please note: introvert homeschooling five kids). And it totally is much needed alone time. Then I also told myself that running was something that I did for myself. That it was something I loved. That it was something that made me feel like myself. And it worked. I told myself all those things long enough that they still motivate me out the door to run three times a week almost every week.
{Additional side note: Here’s the thing about marketing. It can’t be a lie. It has to be somewhat close to the truth. If you glue hair onto a frog, you can’t sell it as a cat. It doesn’t work that way. But you can convince your audience that a mountain lion could be their new favorite feline friend. We can play mind games with ourselves, but there are limitations. If you hate running and it makes your body feel like death, you’re not going to be able to convince yourself that its your new favorite thing. You just aren’t.}
Finally, the last thing I considered with the idea of treating yourself was the role boundaries played in the whole experience. When something is a treat, by definition, that means one doesn’t get to do it all the time. If I go running all day every day, it’s no longer a treat: it’s either my job or it’s an addiction.
Several years ago, when I’d gotten in the habit of watching TV while I nursed, I began to realize how easy it was to justify just finishing off the episode quickly while I changed diapers. Or staying up late when the Man was TDY, compulsively watching TV instead of getting the much needed rest my body craved. So I decided I was no longer going to watch TV by myself. It wouldn’t have been the right call for everyone, but it was the right boundary for me. Suddenly, TV watching was a treat again—it was something I got to do with my husband—instead of something that made me feel vaguely guilty all the time.
{One more side note: I’m trying something new boundary-wise with my novel reading too now—ask me how it’s going in a couple months.}
Anyway, as I get to the end of what has become a really long post (sorrynotsorry), I’m thinking about the desires of my heart right now. What do I really want? Do I want to treat myself to more stuff I don’t need? To meals that cost way too much money? To coffee that I could make just as well at home? Sometimes the answer is yes. We’re being honest here.
This is totally what I’m referencing and definitely not what we’re talking about.
But when I think about it more, what I really want is to treat myself to strong muscles, a quiet heart, hands that serve others, a mind that has energy to expand and think critically. I want to treat myself to kindness, peace, compassion, wisdom.
And in order to do that, yeah, sometimes a shift in perspective is needed (I need to want to read a book that’s going to stretch me more than one that will give me the instant gratification of entertainment), sometimes I need to do a little marketing work for myself (cleaning the kitchen now will make future you so happy!), and sometimes I just need to set some healthy boundaries in place so that I can enjoy the good gifts God gives without glutting myself on them.
I guess at the end of the day I’m asking: what does it really mean to “treat yo’ self”? And if I want it to mean something new to me, am I willing to rethink my perspective, be my own marketing consultant, and set my boundary lines so that they fall in pleasant places?
