When I began this whole blogging adventure, I made the decision to not do any sponsored or promotional posts. By which I meant, I wouldn’t accept freebies - or indeed MONEY (idiot) - in return for a casually posed Instagram post saying how I stumbled upon these pet-worming tablets in Woolies and they’ve CHANGED MY LIFE, despite my absence of actual pets. Or an effusive blog post saying how I happened upon a new type of shower gel in Coles and, do you know, it’s really helped curb my swearing and general bad humour.
As it turns out, this hasn’t been much of a problem. After all, who’d want me as their brand ambassador anyway? Gordons Gin? Valium? I’m hardly the unlined face of perfect parenthood.
So anyway, there I was, all principled and holy, when I received an email asking if I’d like to try out Yummy Mummy Pregnancy Day Spa in the city. My friends, I ignited the keyboard with the speed in which I typed back: FUCK YEAH.
In my defence, I’ve had a bitch of a fortnight, thanks to my eldest son, who appears to be trialling for the 2016 junior arsehole olympics. I’m owed this. My shoulders are knotted, my brow is furrowed (where the botox has worn off) and I’ve actually blistered the inside of my lips from biting down on them so hard (it’s either that or give my first born an actual Chinese burn). So I said YES. And NO, I’m not pregnant - JESUS - but I’d have stuffed a pillow up my jumper and pencilled on stretch marks if it meant half an hour of peace and quiet sans children.
As it turns out, Yummy Mummy Pregnancy Day Spa (on Brisbane St in Perth, just next to NIB Stadium) isn’t just for pregnant mammas. It’s for all mammas, with babies inside AND outside of their bellies. It was created by mum of two Amy, who got a bit fed up with the lack of treatments available for expectant mothers when she was pregnant. I get that. When I was pregnant with Ben, my lovely friends Siobhan and Mairead (sisters, Catholic, generous) bought me a massage voucher. The masseuse didn’t have a fecking clue what to do with my big old belly. She was too scared to even touch my feet, in case she induced labour (NOT A THING, I’ve now discovered).
At Yummy Mummy Pregnancy Day Spa, the therapists are qualified and confident. They’re happy to touch your feet. They have beds with big HOLES in them to pop your belly through, and are conscious not to lie you flat on our back in case the baby squishes your internal organs. Clever eh?
So anyway, I rolled along (LATE and STRESSED, as USUAL), thinking I was just gonna get a 20-minute foot rub, or something, but instead I got totally spoilt. This took me as far out of my comfort zone as is possible on a Wednesday morning before lunch. I had to force myself to relax. I had to forget about kids, and emails, and deadlines, and housework. I had to relllllllaxxxxxxx. It’s a thing. You should definitely try it.
I had an all-over body scrub to start with. It was immense. I’d have been happy with that. But no! Then I had a shower (NOBODY SCREAMED AT ME TO WIPE THEIR BUM WHILE I WAS MID LATHER), put on a gorgeous robe and slippers, and went back to the room for a FULL BODY MASSAGE. My friends, I fell asleep. My head through the little hole in the bed, dribble dripping on the wooden floor, probably snoring. When I woke up, I got an attack of the giggles, remembering that bit in the IT Crowd when the masseuse kisses Roy upon the buttocks, so I made myself think sad thoughts. Like the fact that this would one day end.
Good news! It just kept going. After the massage I got an organic (organic!) facial and - be-still my beating heart - a head massage. I died a little, then. Life should not be that good.
YOU THINK THAT’S IT? YOU THINK IT CAN’T GET ANY BETTER? Wait for this: I got dressed and was led into the lounge room, whereupon I DINED upon lovely nibbly things and sipped delicious juice and refused, point blank, to leave. I begged the therapist to let me stay, to not make me go back to those terrible, screaming creatures clawing at me for food and shelter and LCM bars.
In the end, my parking ticket expired, so I had to leave. I left, however, on a little cloud of body scrub and bliss, and you couldn’t wipe the serene grin off my serene head for the rest of the day, EVEN WHEN I HAD TO HERD THE KIDS INTO THE CAR FOR THE SCHOOL RUN. I was like the Dalai Fucking Lama, all good vibes and tranquillity.
I’m going to get vouchers for Yummy Mummy Pregnancy Day Spa for every mum and mum-to-be I know. It’s going to be my thing. I need to bestow this serenity upon my people, because my people need this.