The Fancy Pants Day Spa

For my last birthday, Geoff gave me a voucher to the fabulous day spa I love but venture to infrequently.

As my birthday will be here again in just a few short months, I thought it was well time to book it in.

The chick at reception assured me most people take a year to redeem vouchers. Her theory is because you didn't buy it yourself, you don't make the time. That makes no sense to me whatsoever. I think it's because the anticipation of such indulgence is almost as good as the event itself. You just look at that thick, crisp, white package on your desk and sigh in the smug satisfaction of knowing it's there whenever you feel like it.

And now it's not. Which is a bit sad and just a reminder that I should book myself in more than annually.

Anyway... I had the Kitya Karnu signature treatment last Monday. Divine. Ensconced in a personal steam room, you're lathered up with delectable smelling oil, then sprinkled with some seemingly heated exfoliating salty mud and vigorously scrubbed down. Unfortunately at that point, as much as I was enjoying the experience, I had two images in my mind:

1. Preparing a slab of pork belly for the oven
2. Reapplying sunscreen after you've laid in the sand

Neither really conjuring up the euphoric state I was hoping for.

They then wash it all off with high-pressure water, run some refrigerated river stones over you then flip you like a sausage (or maybe that's just me??) to do the other side.

Anyway, in addition they apply a hair mask, which includes a head massage (an absolute highlight) and a bit of a mini facial.

After, they settle you back into their plush lounge with soothing music, books full of inspiring quotes and lifestyles that I'll never attain, chilled water and a glass of herbal tea. You can then avail yourself of their heavy-rain-like showers using all their fabulous products - shampoo, conditioner, body wash and lotion - in the bathroom with combs, hairdryers, loads of fluffy white towels you don't have to wash -  so make sure you're not in a rush.

Hopefully the Zen will last a few weeks.

Therapy; Take Two

Okay, so I have fired my therapist. Maybe that's too dramatic. Let me try again. My therapist and I have parted company. I did give that nature thing a red hot go and I even turned up for the second session where I felt somewhat criticised for my steadfast (her word was 'ridgid') lack of belief. Hmmm.

Moving on from nature, part two was meant to involve my study of Quantum Physics. Now listen here people, I do not write under the name Mother Who Works because I spend my days sitting around watching daytime TV!!! I am very, very busy and I'm sure Quantum Physics is fascinating and I'll look forward to looking into that ....when I retire. Which given my financial commitments will be no time soon.

So I sent her what I hoped was a nice note and she eventually responded with an equally nice response.

Phew.

But having wriggled out of that, I still didn't have a solution to my 'issue'. (Did you like that? 'Issue'. It looks so insignificant doesn't it?) I needed a Plan B, and it arrived in the post in the form of the newsletter that I receive monthly from the Children's Hospital - specifically, the Bereaved Parents Support Group.

I'd never seriously contemplated turning up to one of their meetings as even reading the news letters made me cry - every time, every month, for nearly four years. Why would I subject myself to the amplified exposure of actually being there in person? It was bad enough reading about it in the privacy of my own home. But this time it seemed a bit different. There was no newsletter, just an invitation to the next meeting which sounded more casual, with no guest speaker, a bit of a looser start to the year's program. I decided to go. And it was good.

It was kinda hard to take seriously at the start as we all sat in a circle of stackable chairs with strategically placed boxes of tissues under every third or fourth one. It seriously looked like a set for a sitcom. But it became very serious as each person introduced themselves and relayed the story of how their child died. Oh my god. It was so sad. There was lots of weeping - me mostly - but we all soldiered on. And it was like I had finally found my tribe. We laughed, we cried, it was an emotional roller coaster. But these people were so honest and frank and raw and articulating things I've been thinking, talking about their contradictions in expectations of other people, about all the awkward situations they find themselves in - all the same as me!!!

I can see the benefit of group therapy - to be amongst people who are in such similar circumstances is extremely comforting. I don't think I'm crazy after all. The room was filled with understanding, appreciation, tolerance and empathy. I was so appreciative that I wanted to suggest a group hug! (You'll be pleased to know I didn't spoil what had been a very productive evening!)

I think I'll go next month too.