A day of the stomach virus has knocked me to the ground and I’m having a hard time getting back up, but before you all think I never returned from my spa get-away, I thought I’d post a quick ditty about one small “adventure” I had at the spa.
First of all, let me just say that EVERY mom out there needs to make a weekend like that happen. Beg, Plead, Steal, Do Something to make it happen. For those who read my last post, you know I’ve been going through some tough days and these 2 days away have brought me a new perspective (along with your commiserating, empathetic comments that made me feel less like a sinking mom). When I left for the weekend, I never thought 2 days would be enough. I thought I’d leave the spa kicking and screaming and cry the whole way home. But I didn’t. I did a lot of thinking. And I was ready to come home to the squeezing hugs, drippy noses, and hacking coughs that I received when I walked back in the door. I didn’t expect the night of stomach upset upon my return (many may think it was just my way of extending my time in bed with ’round the clock help) but that’s another story.
Back to my adventure. Ok, everyone think back to your wedding night. Think specifically about the moments RIGHT before you walked down the aisle. Many of you may have been in a “holding” room with your bridesmaids and family. Butterflies in your stomach. Stressed that your veil wasn’t on straight, your train wasn’t laid perfectly out behind you, wanting everyone to just be quiet so you could breathe and enjoy the moment. Some of you may have had tears in your eyes anticipating the moments, hours, years ahead of you. For most of us, I’m pretty sure it was a VERY special, sentimental, emotional time. Now imagine some person, wandering unknowingly into your “space” naked except for a spa robe. Yes, that would have been me. I got a little lost my first afternoon at the spa, not quite understanding the woman at the front desk’s directions of how to get from my room to the spa (I recommended better room labeling as I left), so I took it upon myself to wander and around and find it. I never have been so great with directions but usually I have Tim with me who directs me from point A to point B. I did feel slightly underdressed wandering the hallways with all these dressed up, coursage/boutonniere wearing people whispering amongst themselves but I didn’t think much of it. And dammit, I was running late for my facial so I got impatient and just started opening all of the doorways in front of me. Even the one labeled “conservatory” which happened to be the special place the bride waits before walking down the aisle. And there I was. Face to face with her. And what did I say? “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. Is this not the spa?”. And I lingered for moments too long (while I was there I needed to check out the bridesmaids outfits and the bride’s gown of course). I hated myself at that moment. I knew how much she hated me too. This was NOT what she had envisioned in her year of planning for her perfect moment. But this is what she’d remember of that special moment. I’m wondering if I now am labeled, “Towel Girl” or “Spa Girl” in her recollection of the night. Balloon Boy became famous the same day but she remembers me instead. Based on the look on her face when she saw me, I definitely hold some place in her heart. I remember the rabbi not remembering Tim was Jewish at my wedding and screwing up the entire sermon (another story not for today), Norwich Spa Bride remembers Towel Girl.
At least I enjoyed my facial.