I used to think that I was a difficult person to Christmas shop for. There isn’t anything that I collect. My closet is overflowing with clothes, candles and body lotion. I don’t wear a lot of jewelry and I don’t appreciate knick-knacks to put on my shelves. Actually, I don’t have shelves for this very reason. I don’t look at trinkets fondly with warm, fuzzy feelings for the person who gifted them to me. I quietly curse them under my breath as I dust them off, not nearly as often as I should, secretly hoping for one to hit the floor and break so I have good reason to get rid of it. If its only purpose is to sit on a shelf and look at it, I’ll pass.
In general, I don’t like stuff.
I keep a wish list on Amazon with a few things that I could use…but mostly it’s a shopping list for me so I don’t forget what I need. Seriously, I have Oxi-Clean, socks and toothbrush heads on there. I really wish big with that list…but I wouldn’t mind if any of those things showed up in an Amazon box on my doorstep. Just saying.
As a full-time working mom with a toddler and another babe on the way, I don’t make a lot of time for myself. Most of the hobbies I had before becoming a mom have been placed on the back burner. This became glaringly obvious when I looked at the calendar and realized it had been 11 months since I had been to the hair salon.
E-L-E-V-E-N. I have no idea how that happened. Ummm, where were my friends during that time and why did no one bother to tell me it was time to do something about the hot mess that my hair had become?
Blame it on motherhood?
But it helped me realize, there are actually a lot of things I want for Christmas. A haircut, for one. Or a manicure. Or perhaps a massage. A gift card to my favorite restaurant, with an offer to babysit so I can sit down and enjoy a meal while it’s still hot and not spend the entire time arguing with my tiny dictator about why she has to stay in her seat or why she can’t throw her food on the floor. I had coffee with my best friend at a new local coffee shop this past weekend, a date that was long overdue, and it was the best hour and a half that I’ve had in a long time.
So I know exactly what I want for Christmas. It doesn’t take up any space in my house. It won’t collect dust, or get broken, or need to be cleaned. I’m not going to trip over it or worry about how long I have to hold onto it before I don’t have to feel guilty about getting rid of it.
I want a haircut.
I want to sit in a chair for two hours while someone brings me coffee and water (or wine when I’m not pregnant…seriously, my salon is the best, I really should go there more often). I want mindless gossip without having to worry about being interrupted every 5 minutes. What I’m trying to say is I want for someone to take care of me for a change, even if it’s just for a few hours.
So send me to the salon. Schedule a mani/pedi date. Or meet me for coffee on a Sunday afternoon. I really am easy to shop for after all. But you’re going to have to force me to do it, because clearly my standards for self-care have been lowered. Like a lot.