As a mother, I often long for some quality “me” time. I even used to fantasize about having a moment of solitude in the bathroom. You know, a chance to enjoy privacy while handling personal matters. However, I’ve become so accustomed to having a little assistant accompany me that I’m not sure if I want to experience that solitude anymore.
My bathroom visits have turned into a mini-production: “Could you pass me the toilet paper, darling? Might I have a magazine, my dear? Please fetch Mother the wet wipes; she’s dealing with a rather unfortunate situation that started during pregnancy.” Not fun, and yes, it’s your fault! So, get me those wipes, and make sure to remember the courtesy flush, please.
While the companionship can be amusing, there is one place where I yearn for solitude: the hair salon.
Why I Crave a Solo Salon Experience
Let me explain why:
I want a day where I can feel like Cinderella and have my fairy glam-mother work her magic, transforming me into a princess for an evening out—no need for my bathroom assistant. I crave that exquisite scalp massage during a luxurious shampoo, an experience that might be more thrilling than a chapter from Fifty Shades of Grey. I certainly don’t want my tranquil moment interrupted by a sudden cool rinse from a toddler practicing gymnastics on my lap.
I desire the chance to unwind alone while getting my long-overdue haircut and color. I cannot manage a 30-pound child on my lap, swinging her arms like she’s at a rodeo with a sticky lollipop that’s ruining my blowout. If the split ends keep piling up, someone is getting tossed off.
I want to enjoy the pulsating techno music blasting from the speakers while I subtly dance under my salon cape like I’m at a club, instead of listening to “D-D-D-D-Dora” on my phone, as a little Nick Jr. fan plays a faux rap for kids. The only thing I’d love to hear from Dora right now is: “Adios Amigos! Time to vamanos without your Mama.”
I want to admire my stunning ombre hair and gorgeous cut without a 30-pound distraction. I don’t need a mini narcissist vying for attention; I simply want to smile at my reflection, appreciating how great I look.
I wish to sip glass after glass of complimentary wine, relishing the indulgence of spending two hundred dollars at a high-end salon while pretending to my partner that our finances are just fine. I don’t need a little one snatching my glass and declaring, “Mommy can only have one glass of appy juice!”
I crave a pampering session without the need to apologize for any strange noises or inappropriate phrases coming from a little one who imitates me in public. I don’t want to hush a little one who’s making a scene and bouncing on my legs.
I wish for my adorable child to go home—without me. Text Dad, call a ride, do whatever it takes. No offense, sweet pea, but I want this afternoon to be about me and my stylist. Believe it or not, I genuinely enjoy the hour-long transformation session, where my stylist doesn’t cry, throw tantrums, or make everything about her.
She compliments me instead of calling me silly names. She transforms my hair from drab to fabulous and somehow manages to make me look a decade younger without a single needle of Botox.
Even better, she replaces my tired mom-bun with gorgeous curls, giving me days of carefree happiness, allowing me to move my head like I’m dancing in a club instead of at home. (And my partner thinks I look amazing!)
She’s my rent-a-best friend, as I often find little in common with my peers. My stylist laughs at my jokes, compliments my looks, and praises my parenting, making her my bestie for life. So what if she’s a bit of a liar? She’s a fantastic one, and I appreciate her talent.
Moreover, she listens attentively to my rants, allowing me a moment to vent all the frustrations that no one else cares to hear. Poor thing, she has to listen to me complain about you again, and this time for not staying home.
In Summary
Every mother deserves some time to recharge, and a solo trip to the salon can provide that much-needed escape.
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Keyphrase: Hair Salon Solo Time
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