<a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/2133417156_ae3d02d331.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-172" title="2133417156_ae3d02d331" src="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/2133417156_ae3d02d331.jpg" alt="" width="464" height="348" /></a>
<h5 style="padding-left: 330px;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/pagedooley/">Kevin Dooley</a></h5>
This past year, for Mother's Day, my daughters made me a "coupon book." The coupons included, among other things, two 10-minute back rubs, one custom drawing (of the subject of my choice), and, my personal favorite, "a half hour of not being bothered."

I love the idea of the homemade coupon book. Not only is it meaningful for the recipient, but the giver goes through an interesting process creating the coupons. The project requires you to ask "What does __________ value most? And what do I have to offer?"

Imagine trying to make a coupon book for yourself, though. It's not nearly as easy as thinking of coupons for friends and family. Go ahead. Try it. What would your book of coupons <em>for</em> you, <em>from</em> you, contain?

The self-back rub is tricky, and liable to leave you more tense than when you started. A coupon for $500 in shoes at Zappos would be nice...but the expense sort of defeats the purpose. And although I'd LOVE to leave myself alone for a good chunk of time, it never seems to work—my brain keeps churning and wondering, questioning and annoying me.
<h4>So...what gifts <em>can</em> you give yourself this holiday season?</h4>
This question was actually posed to me by <a href="http://www.magpie-girl.com/">Magpie Girl</a>, a fellow blogger and online soul sister. (She gathered together a collection of posts on the topic, which you can read <a href="http://www.blogher.com/soulcare-what-gift-will-you-give-yourself">here on blogher</a>.) I was immediately drawn to the question, but sort of stumped, too. <strong>The things we strive to give others tend to be much harder to give ourselves.</strong> Forgiveness. A compliment. A second chance. Compassion.

Why are we so hard on ourselves? And why so stingy? <strong>Sure, it's in "giving that we receive," but that doesn't make giving to ourselves selfish.</strong> It might, in the end, actually benefit the people closest to us—in giving to ourselves, <em>they</em> receive. (As one of my favorite sayings goes, "If Mama isn't happy, no one's happy.")

So I decided to make a list. Here's what my coupon book to myself will have in it (you might notice I have some guilt issues). I'd love to hear what you would (or maybe will?) give yourself this holiday season.

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<h4>Good for saying NO four times (guilt-free).</h4>
There's a big part of me that wants to be the mom who's always at the school helping kids with their reading and writing. And the person who dreams up many great ideas for church and community service and then actually makes them all magically happen. And the friend who gladly runs around town delivering meals and helping others rake their leaves, clean their garages and scrub their floors.

I <em>want</em> to be that person, and I am whenever I can be. But the reality is, my own yard, garage, and floors could really use some attention. And sometimes the most important thing I can do in the world is just ensure a peaceful, relaxing evening or Saturday at home, as a family, without anyone running around trying to be super-human.
<h4>Good for making kids eat school lunch twice a month.</h4>
My kids are far more enlightened about food than I ever was when I was their age. They <em>really</em> don't like getting hot lunch at school. When I was a kid, getting hot lunch once a week was a HUGE treat. My brother and I would clip the week's menu out of the local paper, examine it, put our initials by the lunch we wanted most, then hang it on the fridge for reference. My kids like to take lunch boxes to school, packed with goodies like orzo salad with kalamata olives and feta, a turkey-avocado sandwich on pumpernickle, or a Tupperware of black bean dip with sour cream and fresh tomatoes, and tortilla chips for dipping. I don't blame them—I like those things, too. And I like knowing they have something much healthier than anything they would eat at school. Plus, sending them off with a lunch makes me feel like I'm sending them with a bit of love to unwrap in the middle of the day.

But <em>man</em>, I get tired of making lunches. Sometimes there's something else I really need to do and I run out of time; other times I just plain forget. When that happens, we're scrambling around the kitchen the next morning even more than usual, throwing lunches together and making everyone tense. I think, every once in a while, I should just tell my girls they're going to have to eat hot lunch at school. And I won't feel bad about it. I can even tell them it's good for them—not in the way a healthy lunch is, but in a character-building way that will make them appreciate good food even more.
<h4>Good for one ultra-early bedtime each month, with a book.</h4>
The chunk of time after the kids go to bed, before I go to bed, is a hot commodity. I generally have about three hours of time, and about six hours worth of things I'd like or need to do. Most evenings, Jason and I end up cleaning parts of the house, making school lunches, catching up an emails or getting a jump start on the next day's work. We also just spend time together, and sometimes go out or spend time with friends, and I love all of those things. But I also remember when I used to read books. Constantly. How did I have the time? I'd like to consider it my responsibility to leave my computer untouched, get a good book, and go to bed when the kids go to bed, once a month.
<h4>Good for two hours of learning chords on the mandolin.</h4>
This goes back to the challenge of parsing out those precious evening hours. It also gets to the heart of something I really want but can never seem to set aside time for: more music-making in my life. My soul needs it. I've owned a mandolin now for more than ten years, and although I can read music on it and pluck out tunes, I've never just sat down to learn and practice playing chords. I'm going to do it (and going to stop feeling bad every time I see the mandolin in the closet).
<h4>Good for a cafe upgrade or sweet treat, as needed.</h4>
This coupon requires a couple of dollars, but it's more about treating myself to something special than it is about money. When I started freelancing, six years ago, I gave myself permission to go to a cafe each day, if needed, to work. I don't have a dedicated office space at home or elsewhere, and often, a change of scene is critical to meeting a deadline. I decided buying a double Americano each day is perfectly reasonable. Sometimes, if I'm feeling hungry and am in a good groove with my work, I'll get a piece of toast with butter. I have a really difficult time, though, convincing myself that it's OK to splurge on a cappuccino, or buy a scone or brioche. I'm not saying I would do that regularly. I'm just talking about those certain days, when I feel like a little extra treat would go a long way in boosting my mood.

There are, after all, things that matter more than money (and a clean house and all those other things we convince ourselves are SO important). Your well-being is one of them. Asking yourself what you need this busy season, and figuring out how to make those things happen, can have an amazing ripple effect in your life.