Posted by dulwichmum on Tue 21 November 2006
Religiously every month, since the age of sixteen, I have had a facial – up until I had my first child that is. I always tried to look after myself, and liked to make the best of my skin. After the babies were born I was at home full-time for four years. I neither had the time or the money to spend on myself and so my self indulgent ritual was abandoned.
Recently I drove past the tiny local beauticians, that I frequented before I became a mum. This shop was very popular with my flatmates and work colleagues, and had been the most wonderful relaxing haven in the past. I remembered the sense of calm and the sound of wind chimes that tinkled in the air when you opened the door and the far fetched claims that were made regarding the potential benefits of the treatments on offer, but mostly memories of pampering relaxation.
I made an appointment for a facial by phone at the weekend, and went back this evening for a treat. The shop is apparently under new management now, and what a culture change! The ‘technician’ who looked after me had a curiously motionless face. I must have been asleep for the last five years, because things have changed dramatically at the beauty shop.
‘Sindy’ (my father had a Jack Russell called Sindy when I was a child) suggested that along with my facial, I allow her to arrange to have some ‘fillers popped in – just to the deep furrows’ ………..Thanks for that sweetie! She further advised a ‘chemical glycolic acid or microdermabrasion peel, lazer depiliation and lip plumpers’. I am not suggesting for a minute that I am not the owner of wrinkles appropriate to my age, but I was not aware that I have grown a beard of late! Sindy made a much anticipated treat into the equivalent of a trip to the dentists for a root canal treatment, only substantially more damaging to my self-esteem, and just as expensive.
What happened to the pampering massage, the masques and facial steaming? Where are the aromatherapy oil burners and whale music? Where is the charm and the complementary glass of warm UHT orange juice? I am not convinced that an NVQ Level One should qualify these people to wax a bikini line. Who gave them their medical diplomas, syringes and exfoliating acid? Whatever happened to ageing gracefully? It was like Frankensteins lab in there!
I managed to get out the door without eyelash extensions (they last four weeks apparently) or acrylic nails. I quite like the idea of spray tan, but would the children recognise me? A frozen face and thick lips are not the look for me. As for the chemical peel – well, its all a bit too scarey, and colonic lavage? If anyone tries that on me I will have them arrested. I had to come home and lie down for half an hour.
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Posted by dulwichmum on Mon 20 November 2006
I am a control freak – I admit it. It is just no fun for the kids when we bake. I like aprons on, hands washed, everything measured out accurately and mixed thoroughly. Oh, and the mix stays in the bowl, all in a manner which would make Bree Van De Kamp look flakey. I like the kids to have something nice to show for their efforts, even if they must remain on the naughty step while I carry out the entire task myself.
My lovely chilled out chum Lesley often bakes with the kids (hers and mine) and they so enjoy it. They eat most of the mix during the process, and they end up with it in their hair, on the walls, on the cat, and they have a laugh, but no cake to show for it, and what they do make – you wouldn’t dream of eating. It doesn’t seem to matter, it is just good fun. Why can’t I be more like Lesley?
Mrs Honeywell recently ‘volunteered’ me to come into school to help the children to bake. I tried to explain to my sons delightful teacher that I am not the best candidate to carry out this task with children, and she laughed. Oh, how little she knows! I dutifully took an annual leave day today and came to the school as requested, but I was dreading it. We want the children to see us support them at every opportunity and Max was delighted – he is a little sweetheart.
I sat there in my powder blue Cath Kidston apron, with the ingredients as requested from home (organic of course) – terrified of myself. I really held back, tried to control myself and be a good mother. The event was soon in full swing, egg shells in the Magimix, sticky spoons galore, icing sugar on the surfaces, and my bottom slapping hand had developed a nervous ‘twitch’. Suddenly a group of parents entered the classroom unannounced on a ‘tour’. I was heartened to see that nothing at all is ‘staged’ for these prospective parents’ walkabouts, and tried to resist the urge to run from the classroom screaming and tearing out my hair.
The headmistress gave a little explanation to the group of parents of all of the wonderful activities currently in progress in the classroom. The four little boys at the baking table with me continued with their tasks, despite the audience, one sifting flour carefully onto the floor. I was an emotionally exhausted quivering wreck, where is the gin when you need it? As the group began to filter out of the room, an enormous suited, confident man came up to my table, and asked, ‘Is the egg in that mix pasteurised?’ and ‘Is it safe for that boy to be licking a spoon with raw egg in the mix?’, I almost expired with an anxiety attack.
Immediately, Mrs Honeywell interrupted authoritatively (she is a goddess), ‘No the egg is not pasteurised, and at this table here – these boys are cutting with real scissors, and outside in the playground is a terrific play frame for the children to climb on which they also may fall off and hurt themselves. We refuse to sanitise their childhood, we will protect them as much as is sensible, and explain dangers to them if appropriate. If this concerns you, this is not the school for your son’, at which Mr Pants looked rather panic stricken, and backed apologetically out of the class. ‘We do not bubble wrap our children’ – finished Mrs Honeywell, as he scuttled out the door.’
Touche!
Wow, what a powerful woman. I think she is amazing. On reflection, I actually enjoyed the morning baking at school. I am going to bake with the children at home soon…………ish.
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Beauty Shop
Religiously every month, since the age of sixteen, I have had a facial – up until I had my first child that is. I always tried to look after myself, and liked to make the best of my skin. After the babies were born I was at home full-time for four years. I neither had the time or the money to spend on myself and so my self indulgent ritual was abandoned.
Philips ReAura (Part 2)
The Body Shop - Born Lippy™ Satsuma Shimmer, Passion berry and Pomegranate Lip Balm
Philips ReAura (Part 1)
Is there an app for this?
Homework
