15 Oct 2013


I attempted to perform some Mummy maintenance last week in the form of hair removal.

Found a lovely lady on the book of face, home salon, kids room for the Mushroom to play in.  Sounded amazing. 

Unfortunately things that sound amazing, will generally turn out to be a big, fat, f up.

Which it was.

There were numerous signs which should have indicated to me that this was a bad idea but I just forged ahead, determined for leg deforestation. 

  1. Juffin's pay didn't go in on Friday morning.  I just dipped into my cupcake money and thought, stuff it, I deserve this.
  2. Enroute I realised that Kelso is a really long way from my house.  Google maps was telling me 37 minutes and my appointment was in 15 minutes.  Whoops. 
  3. I then sit in roadworks for 10 minutes making my arrival time a whooping half an hour after the appointment time.  I was humiliated.  
I am sweaty, apologetic shaking mess when I finally rock up at this poor woman's house.  Mushroom is extremely unhappy after having to sit in the car for so long and is gripping my shirt with the strength .  I can't help thinking that if I'd been on time we'd be almost finished by now and leaving happy and hair free.

Waxing lady is lovely.  Her house is lovely.  Her kids are lovely.  My Mushroom, not so lovely.  As soon as I put him down with the girls and their toys, he loses his shit.  They dance around trying to entertain him and he eventually starts smiling.  Grabbing the opportunity, we manage to jump into the next room and get started with a minimal amount of fuss.   I am silently crossing my fingers and hoping that the boy behaves himself.

Approximately 5 seconds later, the Mushroom realises that I'm no longer in the room and starts up again.  Argh!  I feel so awful for this poor woman. As my lower limbs are covered in wax, she goes to get my screaming Mushroom and tries to calm him down.  He's not having a bar of it.  You're not my bloody mother, I can feel his indignation from the other room.  She brings him into me and his little red tear soaked face is enough to make me cry.  He's swinging his little head around frantically searching for me and when he locks eyes on me he nearly launches himself in my direction.  Oh dear.  I feel like the World's worst mother.

Despite the stickiness all over my legs, I jump up from the table and grab my poor anti-social boy.  He's really worked himself up into a state now and despite lots of cuddles and cooing, the crying is not abating.  I figure he's hungry and whip the ol' breasticle out.  If all else fails, stick a boob in his mouth.  What do you know?  He stops.  I then have to deal with a very inquisitive 4 year old asking me lots of questions about breastfeeding and why is the baby boy crying etc.  It's very cute, however, I'm feeling increasingly uncomfortable and embarrassed by this whole venture.  Why did I think that this would be ok?  Why didn't I just get my Mother to watch him while I did this?  What kind of selfish woman leaves her son with a bunch of kids she doesn't know whilst she gets her bits waxed?

Enter Jess the Gymnast.  We continued the wax with Mushroom sitting on my chest.  I then stood up and held him whilst she did the backs of my legs... Not exactly ideal. As the Mushroom seemed happier and was playing around the floor for a little while we took advantage and decided to do an underarm.  I'm not sure why we decided to do that but almost immediately it turned into a very bad idea.  What was supposed to be underarms, eyebrow, legs and bikini, turned into legs and one underarm.  I am officially lopsided. The wonderful woman then refused my attempt at payment and gently suggested that I come back next week sans child so she could finish up.


Wonderful woman.

So I'm going back tomorrow.  Without the Mushroom.

I vow to be on time.  Have cash.  And get that shit done.

The trials of motherhood, I tell you!

How could someone so cute cause so much trouble?!

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