It will be a while before this mama ventures out alone for some “me-time”

The lobby. The LOBBY of this very fancy metropolitan hotel in downtown Sydney. It is busy with well-dressed business men and women, chic tourists and impeccably classy (helpful yet discreet) hotel staff.  I could use a little “discreet help” right about now. It suddenly feels like this robe has reached a new level of thin. After all, this flimsy fabric is all that is currently covering my naked body. That people’s eyes automatically avert to the swimsuit in my hand does not help.

It’s not that bad-I’m not exactly in my underwear (well, it’s almost worse- the damp robe is clingy in all the wrong places, darn it!). The spa, I just have to locate the spa! I somehow make my way to the huge elevators but then remembering (too late) that the spa is in fact on the same floor as the lobby (after a slightly uncomfortable elevator ride…). Ah! That is why none of the buttons had the word “spa” next to it. Great, now I have to make my way across the grand lobby floor ones again (worse than any “walk of shame”). To think I felts so good about myself only hours before when I was going to the spa!

To my great relief (as well as everyone else’s) I finally find the spa entrance. To say the spa staff up by the counter look confused is a big understatement. They keep looking towards the changing rooms in the back then to me. Back and forth, too polite to even say anything. I’m probably quite the sight, another first for them! This stuff only happen to me I swear. One of the guys even blurts out “but how…?” scratching his head, before the girl in charge stops him with a look (I’m right here you know, I can see you!). I am thankful that I don’t have to answer any questions though, I’m embarrassed enough.

I just tiredly request to be let back into the male locker room (with no one in there thank you very much!) without any “drama”. All I want is to change back into my regular clothes and go back to my hotel room and waiting family. I suddenly feel like I just want to go to bed and “call it a day”, but I know that we have some other plans and dinner on the agenda before we leave this beautiful place. I can’t wait to hold my baby and kiss my boys! My wish is granted and without drama I am finally able to change back into my dress, throwing the robe (they really should consider thicker, less revealing fabric) in the laundry basket cutely labeled “his robes” in cursive. I’m over this spa experience for sure!

Barely managing to hold my head high I leave the spa thanking the staff at the front desk (I’m pretty sure they are whispering about me). The girl who first greeted me tells me to hold on, my masseuse had told her that I needed a massage collar for my stiff shoulders (ehm, okay…). Assuming it’s a gift, I thank her again and take it to leave, anxious to get out of there.

“And that will be 80 (Australian) dollars, how would you like to pay for that?” Come on! I just want to get out of here. I tell them to put it on the room and hurriedly give her the room number!

I somehow get to our room and re-unite with my family. I’m so happy to see them, it will be a while before this mama ventures out alone again (I can obviously not handle “me-time”).

They seemed to have been just fine without me. Our son has built a fort of couch pillows and the bed’s comforter in front of the TV, watching cartoons with his dinosaurs. “Back already mom, but we were having fun” gee thanks kid! I barely have time to scope my baby girl up covering her little body with tiny kisses as she giggles in delight before the hotel phone rings.

My husband looks increasingly surprised (or is the word I’m looking for “shocked” as he barely says a word but keeps looking over at me (quite accusatory I might add). As he hangs up he asks “did you just buy an 80 dollar spa item and put it on the head of the company’s room tab?”

About jennym

A doctor of psychology and a mother of three writing about the struggles and joys and the ups and downs of motherhood, marriage, pregnancies, deliveries and her absolute love for her children in a humoristic yet down to earth weekly blog!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 425 other followers

Follow drmamma on WordPress.com
%d bloggers like this: