I haven’t been ignoring this on purpose. I’ve been struck by about seven bolts of lightening at once and feel absolutely exhausted as a result. I’m currently living in a haze of mouth ulcer gel (which is insanely good, half my mouth is numb) and antibiotics (I’ve been on a variety for a month now.) It’s all falling apart a bit.

Something that’s thrown around a lot recently around the Internet is the idea of “self-care” and “self love” and I don’t mean wanking. Not that kind of blog, sorry. It’s something I’ve never really understood because I was pelting around at full speed working, mothering, running a house and didn’t have time to sit down and care for myself. And look where that got me – swimming in a pool of mouth ulcer gel and glugging paracetamol by the bucket. (I’m only joking, always use medication to the rules on the packet.)

So I’ve been thinking – should I partake in more self-care? (God, it really does sound like I’m talking about wanking.) If you google it, you’re greeted with people relaxing with bath bombs and doing yoga and meditating and I’m not good at any of those things. Our bath is half out of action due to the fact we’ve ripped all the tiles off in an attempt to start renovating the house. Yoga isn’t my friend due to the bad back I’m currently cursed with and meditating isn’t really my scene.

I then realised, by actually pausing and thinking about what I need right now, that everyone’s idea of self-care is different. Whereas Sally on Instagram might enjoy going for a 90 minute hot yoga session, Hayley over here needs to sit under a blanket and watch 4 episodes of Scandal whilst drifting in and out of sleep.

I’ve realised the best thing I can do for myself is to just listen to the signals my body is giving me and actually do what it’s telling me to do. And right now, it’s telling me to sit under a blanket and watch Scandal. The other night, it was telling me to go to bed at 10pm and listen to podcasts until I fell asleep. And sometimes it tells me to eat biscuits and drink a cup of tea and let Elliot watch Cbeebies as much as he wants. (Sometimes it does also tell me it would like to go for a run, and/or to eat some fruit or vegetables and I have to clarify I do also do these things. Other than the running. The aforementioned bad back has something to say about that.)

Anyway, epiphany over. The self-care obsession of Instagram at the moment isn’t all buying expensive skincare and meditating. Sometimes it’s making sure to wipe your face with your Aldi cleanser instead of baby wipes, and going to bed twenty minutes earlier and playing Candy Crush in the dark for a bit.

Yeah, maybe my technique needs work. (I’m still not talking about wanking.)

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