Filling your bucket or, if you want to be fancy, self care

In our house, when we are feeling out of sorts, tired, worn out and just generally done, we say we have an empty bucket.  We stole the idea from that book all the teachers read at the beginning of the year in the hopes that the little jerks might just behave.  (Jerks? I mean adorable small humans who just happen to sometimes say mean things on purpose.) Bucket emptiness might be because of physical exhaustion, hunger, over-socialization (for the introverts, anyway), under-socialization (when I haven’t left the house in days), or just general blah-ness.  Or big bad stressful things coming up like trips, presentations, book launches, etc.

I talk a lot about filling my bucket since, as Forrest likes to say, I am highly sensitive to my internal state.  I think he means I’m a real bitch when I am cold, hungry, tired, or stressed, but his way sounds better.  Bucket filling looks so much different than the commercialized Calgon-take-me-away self-care industry that I almost hate using the same term, but it fits.  Self-care is nothing more or less than parenting ourselves.  It can’t be commoditized any more than parenting can be.  That is to say, it has been commercialized, we all think the products are helping, and mostly they’re just taking our money.

When we parent ourselves, we do things like make sure we eat well, or go to bed on time, or make the doctor’s appointment.  Sometimes parenting ourselves means going into the hard meeting and advocating for what we need and not taking no for an answer.  Sometimes it means saying, “I know you don’t want to stop watching TV and go for a walk but you really need to.”  And sometimes parenting ourselves is buying the double scoop of ice cream with no guilt whatsoever because you did the big presentation and yes, we’re not supposed to reward with food but it was really hard and I’m really proud of me now and ice cream is how I say that.

How do you bucket fill?  What does your inner parent do for you?