"Boys...I'm doing some laundry and taking a shower," I call downstairs for anyone who might be listening. No response. "BOYS! I'm getting in the shower!"
"Okay, Mom," the oldest absently hollers back.
His reply was automatic. He has no idea what he is even assuming with his recognition. "You are in charge of the others while I'm upstairs. Got it?" Hello? I call his name, then repeat my directives to solicit coerced agreement.
There are a couple of items on my agenda for the next little bit of time that I have squeezed from the day, laundry and me time.
I am a sucker for subscriptions. It all started many years ago with babies and Amazon's Subscribe and Save program. Since then, I have been a part of many services where I sign up under the lure of some list of discounted merchandise then find myself months later with 14 bottles of hand soap and 3 cases of peach green tea (that I only use one bag of per gallon of tea, so I'm pretty much set for life there). I still LOVE Subscribe and Save!
Currently, I am part of a few of these subscriptions. One of which is a monthly shipment of beauty supplies, bits of cosmetics, hair care samples, or skin care regiment trials. I am in no way a cosmetic, beauty supply, Vanity Fair sort of girl, but I do want to look my best (without trying, which is where it gets sticky). These vials of promise make me only slightly nervous, each one feeling a bit like I am Frankenstein's bride or something. I do love the mascaras they have sent. Recently, I received a "BRIGHTENING" face mask. Today was the day to use it!
After putting a load of lights into the washing machine, I took my shower, got dressed, and prepared myself for this fantastic few minutes of relaxation and beauty rest. The description on the back of the package said, "Illuminating fiber sheet mask infused with natural pomegranate and vitamin E". Sounds perfect. I couldn't wait for its brightening properties to make me look years younger. Knowing in actuality, I would be lucky if my face still looked clean after this little science experiment.
There was a small commotion coming from downstairs as I tore the top of the package at its indicated spot, then removed the mask. It had holes for my eyes and mouth, plus a cut out section for my nose, with slits around the perimeter so that it would lay flat against the edges of my face. It was cold and wet. That part was invigorating. Looking in the bathroom mirror to align it just right, I could hear what sounded like a disagreement from the boys. The mask seemed to be properly applied, so I proceeded to follow direction #2 "Wear mask and relax for 15-20 minutes".
As I exited my bathroom to lay on my bed and read for "15-20 minutes" as directed, my second son came strolling into my bedroom. "What?" he wrinkled his nose. "Why do you have coffee papers on your face?" he asked with a look of disgusted confusion on his face.
"It's not coffee filters, it's a facial mask. I'm following the directions and relaxing for 15-20 minutes. I plan to read my book. You are supposed to be helping with the baby" (he's two now, but I keep saying baby). I plopped onto my bed and grabbed my Kindle. Before I could look up, he was gone, probably in fear that I would give him some other job or insist that he put a mask on too. This one was quite nice.
The boys survived on their own for most of a half hour. I got to lose myself in the world of The Last of August by Brittany Cavallaro. After taking of my mask and massaging "excess serum" into my skin, I went down to work on getting something together for lunch.
I am under no illusion that my 15-20 minutes of relaxation and Pomegranate Crush face mask made a difference in my appearance. It did smell good and promised to deliver vital nutrients to my skin, so I'm sort of relying on the assurances of the packaging here. However, I was grateful to my boys for allowing me some time to myself on this Saturday morning.