Email
PrintThe Hip Mom Takes Time to Relax
Jill VanTrease
OK, mummies. I know, right now you are sweating through your tank top, fielding complaints for popsicles, and starting to contemplate the tsunami that is back-to-school shopping, scheduling and organizing. What do you need? You need to relax. Ha, you say! How? You can’t relax at home, what with all the children pecking at your ankles, whining for lemonade, popcorn, or assistance with a new LEGO monstrosity.
So, yes, you have to bite the bullet and get yourself out of the house for a spell.
Perhaps I’ve been reading too much Vogue lately, but my first inkling is to head out to the spa. I keep reading these articles that recount every salacious detail of the latest spa facials and body treatments that the Upper East Side set is enjoying. THAT kind of decadence is exactly what I need to relax. And I remember fuzzily but fondly a facial I received way back in the Mesozoic era when PVT and I were D.I.N.K.s (that’s Double-Income-No-Kids, of course). And some sort of exotic tropical body treatment I got before my wedding that left me feeling limp as a drunken noodle of linguine, so relaxed was I when the esthetician was done working her lotion-handed magic on me.
So Hip Mom launches Project Spa Treatment. Woo hoo!
But unless your mom lives next door, finding a babysitter? NOT relaxing.
Getting all the diapers, phone numbers, meals and snacks organized for the three hours while the sitter is here? NOT relaxing.
Telling the kids a sitter is coming for a little while? NOT relaxing.
Getting out of the house while your 9-month-old screams (you interpret) “MAMA YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME I WILL NOT SURVIVEEEEE!!”? NOT RELAXING AT ALL.
So what IS relaxing? Crossing the threshold of a lovely, zen-like spa where you are greeted by happy, welcoming faces who can’t wait to pamper you. Suddenly you remember you did leave your children with competent care, the worst probably won’t happen…ahhh…
What kids? Huh?
My first attempt at research finds me at the very posh Ihloff Salon and Day Spa, which has locations both in Utica Square and at 81st and Memorial. Ihloff is an Aveda spa, which means the spa uses the all-natural Aveda cosmetics line – a line that makes the whole place smell like a delicious cocktail of gardenias, seaweed and maybe a touch of Sauvignon Blanc (OK, I may be making that last part up). I have made an appointment for Caribbean Body Therapy, which promises to make me feel like I have “just been on a tropical vacation.” A lithe, spritely redhead named Kate introduces herself, and starts me out with a warm water foot soak and massage, using some delicious unguents that do smell a bit like piña coladas by the pool. Then Kate takes me back to a private treatment room where I strip and lie down on the downy soft table.
Kate’s resemblance to an elfin pixie belies her amazing strength: This girl probably karate chops bricks on her lunch break. She is STRONG. She uses scratchy exfoliating gloves to strip off my “dead” skin, which feels both like I’m being attacked by a really large nail file and oddly wonderful all at once. Then Kate paints my whole body with a seaweed concoction, which apparently both softens the skin and pulls out toxins and impurities. Ah, I can’t begin to imagine the impurities that might come sluicing out of my pores. Kate then wraps me, cocoon-like, in some warming towels and massages my various limbs one at a time. She massages me like I’ve never been manhandled before; I hadn’t realized how corkscrew-tight my muscles were until she began to unwind and loosen them with her magic hands.
Then she washes the seaweed off with more steamy towels, and sends me off to a humid steam shower. The shower has so many heads I can’t tell where the water is coming from; it is hard to extricate myself from the shower, which is about as close to a waterfall in Kauai as I’ll ever get. I return for another coating of moisturizing Caribbean goodness. As I get dressed, I notice – wow – my complexion looks so relaxed, so glowing. If PVT happened to come home early, he would think I was up to something far more illicit than Caribbean Body Therapy. Then Kate sends me on my way with a surprising, not-unwelcome hug.
Sheesh, though, relaxation is expensive. The body wrap, tip and the sitter set me back almost $200. But I do feel great, ready to face my madding crowd AND host a play date at my house. And while it seems ridiculous to pay that amount, maybe every few months it isn’t that bad to budget for something like this. Suddenly I remember my body is something to appreciate, pamper and take good care of; it isn‘t just a cooking, nursing, butt-wiping automaton. What a revelation!
Fortunately, not every treatment has the price tag of the Caribbean Body Therapy. There are some more budget friendly alternatives in town for facials. On the recommendation of a friend, I head to Preferred Skin Solutions, a little mom-owned spa in an unobtrusive office complex at 55th and Lewis. I have an appointment for a facial with another, different Kate. The spa doesn’t have the expensive zen décor of Ihloff, but it is warm and welcoming. And my facial? For an hour my face is exfoliated, masqued, moisturized and massaged. I feel quite pampered. The most relaxing part? The price – a mere $40! Now that is some relaxation you could afford more often.
Kate then recommends I get a series of glycolic peels to refine my pores and even out my skin tone. At such reasonable prices – just $35 for a peel - I might actually do that. But then I remember — I had a chemical peel a couple of years ago, and the procedure definitely does not fall under the relaxation category. I have a memory of feeling like someone doused my face with rubbing alcohol and took a lighter to my chin. Well, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but Kate confirms that the peel does sting and burn for a minute or two.
I make my peel appointment anyway, because I’m getting to the age where skin care is something I need to invest in.
So, yes, the occasional spa treatment might be just what you need from time to time. That Caribbean Body Therapy might add years to my life. But since we can’t run off to the Ihloff every day, there must be something more prosaic I can do daily, without so much forethought and planning… What do you all do, girls? Don’t say working out; that is too much work for me. Maybe yoga? Gardening? Shopping? I am open to your suggestions. But, in the meantime, I think I will just need to call up my fairy godmother more often to have her whisk my children away for an hour, and I will simply retreat to my own bathtub with a chilled glass of Freixenet and a US Weekly magazine.
Now THAT sounds like relaxation.
Want more Hip Mom, go to www.tulsakids.com.
