Monthly Archives: February 2014

Pamper Yourself

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PamperYourself

Some people have yoga. Others have meditation. I have the mall.

No, not them all. THE MALL. 🙂

I haven’t been to the mall in a while. I mean, I haven’t been to the mall by myself in a while. Sure, we run into the Lego store, chase the kids around a bit, have a quick dinner, and head home. We’ve done that a couple times. That’s not relaxing.

But there’s something that happens when I go into a mall alone. It’s a very particular mall, actually — the one I used to go to as a young girl. The elevator music has a calming effect, the perfume-y smell is enchanting, and the tile under my feet feels familiar. I used to go to this mall a lot as a kid, and it brings me right back to childhood. My cares melt away. I’m a kid again.

I haven’t been to this mall in a long time, though. First of all, I don’t have a ton of alone time to go wandering around malls aimlessly. And second of all, I think about the money aspect. It’s not exactly like I’m independently wealthy. Third, I have 10,000 other things to do with my time — things that are seemingly more productive like cooking, cleaning, working on a project, procrastinating…important things.

Well, I’ve been craving a vacation. The heavy winter has gotten me down, and I’m turning into a shut-in.

Out of the blue, the mall beckoned me with its promises of pampering.

But, no, I argued. I can’t waste time at the mall. I have things to do.

Yes, that’s true. But when are we allowed to pamper ourselves? We jump from one thing to the next and find ourselves way down at the bottom of the totem pole. It’s self-inflicted though. If I told my husband that I wanted to go to the mall alone, he’d usher me right out the door. It’s not that other people are holding me back. It’s that I’m holding myself back. I think of all the practical things that I should be doing, and wandering around the mall with zero purpose is anything but practical. I also feel guilty taking care of myself. How can I possibly spend time on myself when I have other people to take care of?

I watch The Real Housewives (because who can look away), and I see how these people pamper themselves. The hair, the nails, the outfits. Who has time for that? I just reason that their luxuries come from being so rich. Of course they have time to do their nails. Then again, I’m sure there are rich people that don’t take care of themselves like these ladies do…

How much time would it take me to put on makeup in the morning or pick out a cute outfit or do my hair? I actually haven’t gotten a haircut in almost a year for two reasons. One is that I have better things to do than sit in a chair for an hour (so I say). And the next is more practical. I have curly hair, and other girls with curly hair will backup the fact that things can often turn disastrous when someone is cutting into your locks. I’ve had some really weird, eccentric cuts done in a salon because it’s fun to experiment with my hair. So I try and stay away.

But then I’m at the point where my hair is a frizz-ball, my face is screaming for moisturizer, and my clothes are wrinkled. Is this really what it means to be busy? Or is this something else? LIKE NOT CARING ABOUT ONE’S SELF?? (Didn’t I learn anything from this post last year? https://williamssyndromesmile.com/2013/07/15/self-care/)

Enough, I say!! It’s time that I put on my Real Housewives facade and pamper myself.

So, for the first time in a long time, I went to the mall alone. Just me and my thoughts. I took my time eating lunch. I walked into all the stores — up and down the aisles until my feet hurt. I bought some body lotion for my super dry skin. And I just let myself be. I tried not to judge if this was a proper use of my time. I just let myself enjoy it for what it was — a day of pampering.

And, as I drove home, I made the bold move of calling a salon to see if they would take me and my frizzy hair. They had an opening! Funnily enough, getting my haircut wasn’t the nightmarish time-waster that I imagined. It took a half hour and was easy as pie. The hairstylist also happened to be a curly specialist, so I lucked out.

Because I took a little time to do some pampering, I feel completely amazing. That’s all it took. Just a few hours of wandering around a mall plus a haircut, and suddenly I’m rejuvenated for weeks. I didn’t have to spend David Foster’s money (Real Housewives reference) to get to this point. It cost me a few hours and a couple bucks. Totally reasonable.

I think everyone needs to waste time on his or herself every once in a while. And I don’t think that sitting in front of the tv like a zombie or playing on one’s phone counts. I mean really, foolishly wasting time doing something that you wouldn’t normally do — preferably outside of the house. Just waste time for a day and don’t judge yourself. A little pampering goes a long way.

To my husband: This goes both ways, you know? I want you to tell me how you’re going to waste time on yourself one day this weekend. No judgement or guilt allowed. Just some good, solid pampering.

What About Me

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WhatAboutMe

I’ve been waiting for this day. Although I certainly haven’t been looking forward to it.

We got our first “What about me?” And it made me feel AWFUL!

Ever since we found out that Emmy has Williams syndrome, I was conscious of how it would impact Charlotte. In the beginning, Charlotte had no idea that there was anything different about Emmy. But, as time has gone by, we’ve had conversations about heart surgery and Williams syndrome and how things are more challenging for Emmy.

Charlotte clearly doesn’t notice any differences yet with Emmy. She’s just her sister. Period — end of story. But now she’s started to take notice of all the special treatment Emmy gets. The additional doctors’ visits, the therapy sessions at school; the meetings with therapists at home.

One wouldn’t think that she would be envious of doctors’ visits, but she is! Charlotte actually loves going to the doctor and dentist. (I’m sure Emmy would gladly trade places in that respect because all hell breaks loose when Emmy senses that she’s going to get poked and prodded by someone.)

And Charlotte is envious of the therapy sessions because they look like fun! Emmy is spending time with really nice therapists who play games with her and cheer her on. What’s not to like?

Well, all the special treatment has started to add up, and it came to a head yesterday when we had an Early Intervention meeting with Emmy’s team of therapists to discuss her goals. Charlotte was supposed to be at school, but it was cancelled. So she got to watch everyone fuss over Emmy some more…and it wasn’t fun for her. She wanted to be fussed over. And in her effort to get attention, she jumped on the couch and tried to get somebody — anybody — to focus on her. Of course, this resulted in a lot of wild bouncing around, and it was hard for me to try and hear what the therapists were saying. It was difficult to manage the situation, but I tried not to get frustrated with her. I know what she wants because I would’ve wanted the exact same thing when I was her age.

The thing is that I’ve been trying so hard to over-compensate for Emmy’s special attention. I wanted to head this off before it started. I didn’t want Charlotte to ever feel ignored. So my husband and I both take her for one-on-one time every weekend. We also signed her up for soccer, gymnastics, and swimming, and we try and make a big deal over all her various activities. My husband even coached the soccer team! I take her for mani/pedis. I read to her. I snuggle with her. I do arts and crafts with her — just the two of us! I try everything in my power to make her feel like she’s special too!

But yesterday when all the therapists left, her face fell, and she said, “What about me?”

She wanted to know, “Why doesn’t anyone get together to talk about me?”

And she’s right. All the outside activities that I do with her don’t compare to the fact that a bunch of people sit in a room and talk about Emmy for an hour. How can I possibly recreate that situation for Charlotte? I don’t know…

I told her that I talk about her and how awesome she’s doing with her teachers all the time, but that’s not the same…

The thing about Charlotte is that we don’t have to sit in a room and talk about how to get her to open a Ziploc bag, or climb the stairs, or keep her balance. She does all of those things beautifully. They’ve never been a struggle for her. Every single goal we set for Emmy yesterday are things that Charlotte has already met. And they all came easily to her. I don’t think I ever had to teach her how to use a fork and spoon. She just did it.

And I’m so conscious of the fact that she is very sharp. This morning, Charlotte was playing with her dolls, and I heard her doing math very quickly! She was saying, “What’s five plus three? Eight! What’s two plus seven? Nine!” I mean, she was QUICK. I was really impressed. And I told her so right away! She’s also really good at gymnastics — very strong and fearless. I watch every gymnastics’ practice. I take videos of her hanging on the uneven bars and send them around to family members. I celebrate her artistic talent and hang up her paintings.

But kudos from mom doesn’t compare to a bunch of people sitting in a room and reviewing her accomplishments for an hour.

So with all of my attention and praise, I don’t know how to recreate that aspect — that type of special treatment that doesn’t apply to typical children. The therapy sessions, the doctors’ visits, and the goal-based meetings. How does an arts and crafts session with mom compare to those things?

If anyone has suggestions, I am all ears! Maybe I can have relatives dress up as strangers and come over to discuss Charlotte’s progress. 😉 I’m picturing my mom with a funny hat on and a feathered mask over her eyes…yikes!

Or maybe the answer is just to keep stressing that things are harder for Emmy and, while these therapy sessions seem like special treatment, Emmy would rather not have to work harder than everyone else. That’s not an easy concept for a 4 year old to understand though. Especially because she notices how Emmy loves getting doted on by her therapists. It certainly doesn’t look like hard work to Charlotte!

I just want to do it right. Like every other mother out there, I have guilt up the wazoo — both for things that have and haven’t happened yet! (I love that I already have guilt for things that haven’t happened yet, by the way. So silly yet so true.) I want to get on the right path, but sometimes I don’t even know where to start.