Me, Myself and I

So, I've been thinking. Yes, I do more than take crummy photos on those early morning walks! I'm pretty sure most of you know that I have been going through a lot the past year or so. Ok, more like five. I feel like I've been a hot mess. Others tell me that they had no idea since I seem so upbeat all the time. Ah, well. Just another paradox of being Steph.

Unless you have been living under a rock, I am certain you have seen or heard a mention of the controversial "bossy should be banned" concept. I have never considered myself a feminist, but this really resonated with me. One of the things I have been considering a lot lately is how my life was shaped by how I was raised and how I choose to raise Sullivan. I've been a nanny/babysitter/mentor/teacher much of my life, yet it was like I started from ground zero with my own kid. But that's a story for another day.

My formative years were also somewhat of a paradox. My parents weren't ultra strict, conservative, or fundie (shout out to Jenny for that term) and even encouraged me to explore other political beliefs, cultures, and religions. All was cool with them, I suppose, as long as I came back to my traditional beliefs in the end. It didn't exactly happen that way, though, and I have always been somewhat of the black sheep. I was also raised to believe that I could do/be anything I wanted. Astronaut, doctor, lawyer, etc. But, if I got married and had kids...forget it. That was all supposed to go out the window. Being a wife and mother would trump everything. My life would end. Having my own life? Selfish. Getting a babysitter for a date night? Nope. Getting my haircut or going to the doctor alone? Not gonna happen. Oh, and even if you bring home the bacon, fry it up, and wash the pan...daddy-o rules the roost. Throw in that divorce is not an option, especially if kids are involved. Suck it up, buttercup. And if you happen to divorce, just plan on not dating until the kids are grown. I. Shit. You. Not.

All right, back to my point. Yesterday, I introduced a relatively new friend to my idea of "me time." It's not like I am cooking meth or pole dancing. It usually means indulgent things like errands or yoga or an uninterrupted bath. Contrary to what I was raised to believe, I truly believe these things are necessary. Does Sullivan really need an anxiety-ridden basketcase for a mama? Rather than be a martyr, I would much rather model healthy behavior for him to emulate. I also think about flight safety guidelines -- put on your mask before attempting to help others. And it's not like I haven't been taking the kid with me since he was a few weeks old in a sling.

Yesterday I dropped Sully off late and picked him early after being the guest reader in his class. In the meantime I did a few things by myself that included a trip to Donut World. Call me selfish, indulgent, whatever you want. But I do not regret it. And I did share :)

Enough deep thoughts for this early in the morning. Over and out.