I have a friend who swears by Epsom salt baths. What's Epsom salt you might ask? It's surprisingly easy to find, especially if you're in a store with a pharmacy.
My friend pours about a cup into a warm bath - adamantly promising that it helps ease her headaches, soothes muscles, aches and pains and pulls toxins out of her body.
Sounds amazing, so I grabbed a bag at the grocery store.
Things couldn't be more crazy in our house, so the idea of sneaking 20 minutes in for a hot bath, seemed too good to be true.
And that it was.
I decided if I was going to soak in a bath, I might as well load it with bubbles. As the tub began to fill, I poured (entirely too much) Epsom salt into the water and shooshed it around. Finding an old bottle of bubble bath I bought about hundred years ago when the idea sounded romantic, I poured a ten year supply into the water next.
To go completely all out, I lit a candle. It was the closest thing to a spa day, this side of Texas.
Shutting the door, I told my husband I was taking a bath, hoping he would keep the kids at bay.
"A bath?"
"Yes. A bath."
"Are you sick? Do you have a fever?"
"No, I'm not sick. Just a bath.
Looking at me like I had three heads, he shrugged his shoulders and told me he'd get some Tylenol if I needed it.
Climbing into the tub, I suddenly remembered how nice it was (gasp) to sit and relax. It's such a foreign concept anymore and I instantly regretted the fact that I didn't think of playing soft music for the perfect mix. Next time.
The Epsom salt really did feel good. Wondering if it was a placebo effect or in fact, possibly true, I actually think my aches and pains felt better. Birds were singing. A light hint of lavender warmed through dancing bubbles that were as high as my chin.
bam, bam, bam, bam...."MOM!"
"MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
"Mommy? Are you in there?!"
Our little girl rivaled any screeching record as her little fists pounded through the door.
Flinging it open, she stopped in her tracks, "Mom? Why are you in the bathtub?"
My three minutes were up, and I sighed.
"Yes, baby."
"Are you sick? Does Daddy know?"
"No, Sweetie."
Running out as fast as she'd come in, her voiced boomed, "DADDY! MOMMY'S SICK! SHE'S IN THE BATHTUB!"
Adam came flying in to get her out, as all four kids scurried behind.
Sinking lower in the bubbles, I wanted nothing more than to go completely under.
"Mom? Are you sick?" The boys echoed as Adam tried to shuffle them out.
"Sorry, Hon." He smiled as he corralled them through the door. The kids looked back as though I was an animal in an exhibit they'd never seen.
"Why is she in a bath? She's never taken a bath. What's with the candle?" I heard them question as though they were holding balloons and eating popcorn.
So, to be honest, I can't really tell you if Epsom salt baths are as wonderful as they're claimed to be. I think they are and someday...some wonderful, magical, rainbow and pony filled day...I hope to tell you about it.
My friend pours about a cup into a warm bath - adamantly promising that it helps ease her headaches, soothes muscles, aches and pains and pulls toxins out of her body.
Sounds amazing, so I grabbed a bag at the grocery store.
Things couldn't be more crazy in our house, so the idea of sneaking 20 minutes in for a hot bath, seemed too good to be true.
And that it was.
I decided if I was going to soak in a bath, I might as well load it with bubbles. As the tub began to fill, I poured (entirely too much) Epsom salt into the water and shooshed it around. Finding an old bottle of bubble bath I bought about hundred years ago when the idea sounded romantic, I poured a ten year supply into the water next.
To go completely all out, I lit a candle. It was the closest thing to a spa day, this side of Texas.
Shutting the door, I told my husband I was taking a bath, hoping he would keep the kids at bay.
"A bath?"
"Yes. A bath."
"Are you sick? Do you have a fever?"
"No, I'm not sick. Just a bath.
Looking at me like I had three heads, he shrugged his shoulders and told me he'd get some Tylenol if I needed it.
Climbing into the tub, I suddenly remembered how nice it was (gasp) to sit and relax. It's such a foreign concept anymore and I instantly regretted the fact that I didn't think of playing soft music for the perfect mix. Next time.
The Epsom salt really did feel good. Wondering if it was a placebo effect or in fact, possibly true, I actually think my aches and pains felt better. Birds were singing. A light hint of lavender warmed through dancing bubbles that were as high as my chin.
bam, bam, bam, bam...."MOM!"
"MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
"Mommy? Are you in there?!"
Our little girl rivaled any screeching record as her little fists pounded through the door.
Flinging it open, she stopped in her tracks, "Mom? Why are you in the bathtub?"
My three minutes were up, and I sighed.
"Yes, baby."
"Are you sick? Does Daddy know?"
"No, Sweetie."
Running out as fast as she'd come in, her voiced boomed, "DADDY! MOMMY'S SICK! SHE'S IN THE BATHTUB!"
Adam came flying in to get her out, as all four kids scurried behind.
Sinking lower in the bubbles, I wanted nothing more than to go completely under.
"Mom? Are you sick?" The boys echoed as Adam tried to shuffle them out.
"Sorry, Hon." He smiled as he corralled them through the door. The kids looked back as though I was an animal in an exhibit they'd never seen.
"Why is she in a bath? She's never taken a bath. What's with the candle?" I heard them question as though they were holding balloons and eating popcorn.
So, to be honest, I can't really tell you if Epsom salt baths are as wonderful as they're claimed to be. I think they are and someday...some wonderful, magical, rainbow and pony filled day...I hope to tell you about it.
THANK YOU SO MUCH for daily clicking the pink box below to VOTE! One click from any phone or computer equals one vote to help us move UP! Love You! XOXO
RSS Feed