I went to the hairdressers on Saturday (it gets better I promise), and how I love those three hours of me time every 8-10 weeks (pre-parenting it was every six weeks, when I looked more groomed and had more money).
It’s amazing how those three hours of talking holiday crap and reading OK! magazine with a hot tea and a pain au chocolat can make me feel a bit normal again. Even if I do have to sift through the toddler stuff in my handbag when it comes to paying (FYI most places don’t accept payment in the form of Thomas engines, plastic elephants or raisins).
As I gleefully set about going to the hairdressers this time it got me to thinking about how much ‘me time’ differs from circa two years ago. I don’t just get ‘me time’ every 8 – 10 weeks that would be crazy! See below:
- Top-up supermarket shopping – I tend to get most of our shopping delivered rather than take a toddler (because have you tried it?). However we inevitably need “top-up” shops where it makes no sense to take Reuben allll that way, get him out the car, and go round the supermarket right? So I plead with Ben to let me go alone and “enjoy” 20 mins of supermarket heaven.
- The toilet – if you ignore the child battering down the door it’s like a little cubicle of joy.
- A hot bath – usually after R’s bedtime, surrounded by plastic tat and elephants. Normally with children’s bubble bath too as I always forget to buy some for myself. *weeps*
- Housework – it’s funny how having a tantrumming toddler can make you and your partner fight over who gets to do the hoovering. To be fair R usually follows me around asking to hoover but when I Hoover upstairs I get a good five mins to myself and sometimes prolong it by using the various hoover attachments. Even the bristle one.
- When I have a “lie-in” – in my house this is basically a test of willpower. How long you can take lying in bed while R inevitably shouts “mummy wake up” or plays with every noisy toy under the sun until you give up and go downstairs. However it’s better than nothing! If you make it past 8am however you’re just being selfish.
- Making the dinner. Ben doesn’t really enjoy cooking, I kind of do, plus it means I get to holler “get out of my kitchen” Peggy Mitchell style for an hour every evening.