The Baseball Spa

Yesterday was a full day of running around--3 tutoring students, and what didn't seem like that many errands...until I was done with them.

The day in order:
Miss shower
Prep for reading lesson
Student 1- 10am-11:30am
Assemble pregnancy snacks
(drive for half hour)
Student 2- 12:15-1:15
Catch up on student reporting
Research surprise for someone online
Call someone to talk about it
Call someone else to talk about it
Eat apple
Post office drop
Drug store for candy treats for turtle feeders
Walmart to waste my time because they didn't have what I wanted
BACK to office to furiously order surprise after final confirmation from someone
Harried drive to student 3's school, only to find that she has been picked up from school. Just as well.
2 minutes later--It's student 3's mom--she is so sorry! Grandma didn't know about lessons. Sigh.
Student 3- 3:45-5pm
Wendy's for junior cheeseburger deluxe and water and bloating
Bank for deposit
Yell at car I know is beeping at me because they want my front row spot at the bank
Back out of spot and mouth "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?"
Realize that car is just notifying karate student next door of its arrival.
Call customer service line to change certain details of surprise after tip from someone
Mall for secondary treat for aforementioned surprisee
Pee at Macy's
Walk in two full circles around escalators before re-arriving at "down" escalator
Call Pei Wei for carryout--pickup time will be 6:40.
Waste time at a totally different Walmart because they don't have a totally different item I want.
Pei Wei pickup--no fuss, no muss.
Trader Joe's for simple item that Walmart didn't have, plus fresh flowers.
(drive for half hour)
Other post office drop
Smash and shear thumbnail on steering wheel reaching for keys in ignition. Still sitting in driver's seat.
Deliver treats for turtle helper neighbors. Yay, skittles!
Home at 8--put away uneaten snacks.
Divide Pei Wei and garnish with mini container of extra peppers and carrots
Husband is home, looking dapper.
Anticipation for Pei Wei builds as blood sugar makes final pre-dinner drop--everything is READY.
Spill every drop of giant glass of water while adjusting flower vase.
Grumble about wet socks
Get large towel from upstairs
Marvel at pattern and span of water strewn across dining room floor.
Shake head and scoot towel with feet, burning final existing molecules of glucose.
Sit opposite of spill site and allow husband to pray before impending explosion.
No explosion--eating instead.
Husband draws bath upon request
Enter husband's impromptu-named "Baseball Spa"

Here the list stops, because here starts a completely new, delightful portion of my day.

Frank has the laptop set up on the sink with live streaming of the Orioles/Yankees game. I start relaxing right away, soaking, scrubbing and shaving away layers of pregnancy-induced dry skin and a skin-darkening coat of leg hair. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW, DON'T READ IT.

He helps me scrub my back, and the game is tied when I hop out of the tub.

Next was the mud mask. I was very proud of this purchase--Rite Aid had all sorts of fun beauty treatment stuff for like 75% off, and I had indulged in about $20 worth of reduced-price goodies. I got some nice, oceany-smelling body butter, another great organic lotion that smells like magic, my sugar scrub, and then the crowning glory--a 14oz, clasp-sealed jar of detoxifying face and body mud, originally over $20, which I had yet to try.

Frank had me lay on the (spa)bed in the next room with a towel under my head, and used his extra barber brush to apply the cold gook on my face, carefully avoiding my eyes and lips as per the instructions. There was a coldness, but also a slight burning sensation through the 15-minute process, which I figure was just a foreseeable part of the procurement of firmer, fresher skin. I brushed it off, focusing on the ninth inning of the baseball game, but also expected some redness after rinsing the mud away.

What I didn't expect, was greenness.

"Um...my face is stained green."
"What? What do you mean?"
"I mean I look like a zombie."
[enters the bathroom]"Hmm...did you use the sponge to wipe it off?"
"YAH, I used the sponge."
"...I'm sorry, babe."

Frank is feeling it bit bad between making jokes about photosynthesis, but I'm not particularly mad. I'm mostly worried about health implications of having stained skin, especially while carrying a child. Perhaps discount spa treatments aren't the best way to go...although my skin is firmer and very soft at the moment. Besides, I'm still having fun being pampered, and there's still a foot treatment I've been hoarding with soft little conditioning socks to come.

So here's an approximation of before and after:

Before

After

I may be exaggerating slightly on the shade, but it does make it look like I have a dirty hobo beard. Meaning that it still looks like this today.

I put on a yellow sweatshirt recently passed to me by my sister this morning, which Frank seemed to think looked really great on me. He even suggested that I wear yellow more often, which I know, from 25 years of experience, is not the best advice for moi. I don't [normally] have a yellow complexion.

"Maybe it's because my face is green"

"...maybe it is. But it still looks nice."

And I have to smile, because even though he keeps calling me "Triceratops" and "Plant lady", I know that even if I had on something red that made me look like I was about to vomit, he'd probably find a way to call me pretty.

Thanks for "The Baseball Spa", Honey.