Examining my bank statements over the past few years, I've noticed a disturbing(?) trend in my spending habits: massage treatments and spa visits are appearing on my receipts with increasing frequency!
One could speculate that one's body requires additional tuning as the miles clock up... and indeed I've had more injuries this decade than the last - but I've also had more children this decade - so is the growing need for rest and relaxation related to HRH (His Royal Highness) and his band of heirs? Are they running me ragged? Or have I always had a consistent requirement for massage therapy before and after marriage/children - but I now have the means to have this catered to professionally? Perhaps the bills are simply related to the fact that HRH doesn't do massages - yes, I can see your eyes rolling - but it's true. He doesn't do that kind of physical exertion and believe me when I tell you it's best that he doesn't. I let him loose with a massager on my back during our honeymoon.
The massager looks like this :
Whatever the driver, I love massages. If I could do them myself (to myself) I would have one every week - maybe even every day.
I am not talking about la-di-da-dee light touch sensual massages. Ahem. You can keep those. I'm talking about serious physio or deep tissue massage.
Throughout my teenage years and early adulthood I dislocated my knee caps regularly, then I fractured my right patella. I went on to break one of my toes - and in between there was a gamut of sprained and twisted ankles. I have fallen arches in my feet - in 2007, the severe over pronation this causes led to a trapped nerve between the 3rd and 4th toes in my right foot. As a collective, these injuries affect the way I walk. You probably wouldn't notice though because every day every muscle in my calves and thighs works overtime to compensate, adjust and correct - so that my walking appears normal but -according to my physiotherapist - I walk like a pigeon. One foot in front of the other... and the end of the day (every day) I am in agony. Perhaps now you understand better my affinity for those massages. After a couple weeks of this daily pain, deep tissue massage is the only remedy left to relax my tight, twisted thigh and calve muscles (and tendons)...
My youngest is 10 weeks old and it has been one big roller-coaster from her premature arrival to her recent admission to our local Children's Ward. I have been knotted up - both physically and emotionally - like a clenched fist for 10 weeks, so you can see why I was glad when I hobbled up the driveway and knocked on the door of the spa owned and run by the lady I shall call "The Hands". I must be a sucker for punishment...
I almost passed out as The Hands touched my back and tried to sieve me through the massage table onto the floor.
It felt as though my spine wanted to change places with my navel, Flat Stanley had nothing on me! My shoulders were yanked from their sockets using my wrists as handles, fingers popped around their knuckles - even my skin felt as though it were being pulled from my limbs. I was kneaded and pounded and stretched and rubbed and prodded and reminded that I was ALIVE.
And then - when I was as limber as I thought I could ever be, The Hands roasted me with hot volcanic stones. When those things landed on my back I was ready to sieve myself through the massage table unaided in an attempt to escape the heat! (Ok I am exaggerating - but only a LITTLE bit, lol)
However, it was at this point that the inside of my head started to look like this
and I exhaled...
My child is alive. Some people can't say that. All three of my kids are walking this earth... still. And I am ALIVE to witness, cherish and straight up enjoy it
even if I do feel like this.