Massages make me verbose.

So today I cashed in on an early Mother's Day gift. Actually it was last year's Mother's Day gift to me -- a gift certificate for a 60 minute (including gratuity) massage at a local spa. Yes, today I self indulged and escaped to a little piece of heaven on Earth. This week I had a little stressful melt down because I had to log in to our bank account and it always freaks me out when I do.

I was a little nervous to go to the spa today because I'm not well practiced on spa going. I followed the receptionist's instructions to change out of my clothes, put on the robe, and wear the provided flip flops. My massager was Christie. She was nice. She asked me if I had kids and I told her I had six. Her jaw dropped and she asked me if I was Catholic. I told her I was Mormon.

I laid face down on the table and she began the massage. Then I got confused. What is a person supposed to think about when getting a massage?

Should I think about the things I have to do the rest of the day? Heck no!
Should I pretend Christie is my husband and just enjoy it? A little weird.
Should I use the soft music to help me pretend I am in the Sacred Grove and think about spiritual things? I'm practically naked and that's a little weird too.
Should I think about my kids? No!
Should I fall asleep? That would be a waste.

I decided to think about whatever came to my mind. First I focused on the music. I was thinking it sounded very Pachelbel with bird chirps and rain sounds. I liked it. I wondered if the massager used the music to help her know when to do certain things. Then I thought about last night's episode of Scrubs, but I quickley got rid of that thought because I was afraid I would get the giggles.

She spent a lot of time on my shoulders. They were pretty tense. It felt good but I was hoping that she would do more than my shoulders because I do like my feet and hands rubbed. Then she got out the hot rocks. Those were awesome! At first when she told me that she was going to use them, I was afraid it would be all new agey and weird, but it wasn't. Heat helps a lot to relax. Then I wondered where she got the rocks. Did she order them from some massage therapist catalog or just buy some river rocks at Walmart for $4.82? Then I thought how it felt like the blood was rushing to my head because the table seemed to be at an incline. But I tried to focus on the rocks. I was glad I had gone pee before because the heat from the rocks could've possible made me wet the table.

Then she went to my legs and feet. I thought about how glad I was that I remembered to shave my legs that morning. I wondered what massagers think when they have to massage a woman who doesn't shave her legs? I then wondered if she could tell that I don't shave my thighs all that much. When she began to massage my right foot, I felt a big intestinal gas bubble. Then my thoughts focused on not farting. Finally the gas bubble subsided. I could relax. I enjoyed the calf muscle massage. I wondered what kind of oil she was using. I thought about what David might be doing with the kids at that moment. (It turns out that he napped on the couch while the kids watched Sky High.) I thought about a couple of errands I was going to run afterward. Then she got to my left foot and its toes and I got another intestinal gas bubble. Then I developed a theory that foot massages cause intestinal gas bubbles. It must be a reflexology thing. Then I wondered if in massage school, Massage 101, the instructor teaches the students to beware when massaging feet because their clients might fart. Thankfully I was able to contain my air and all was well.

I sadly knew that the session was more than half over when she had me flip over. At that point I couldn't help but cough because I was short of breath from laying on my chest and lungs. I thought maybe I had lung cancer or something, but it went away after a minute. She rubbed my arms and hands. That was awesome. Then I thought about my blog friend who is a massage therapist. I wondered if she was as good as Christie. I thought about a blog friend who just got called as the food storage specialist in her ward. I was disappointed in myself for not being able to fulfill her blog post request yesterday to help her name the Food Storage progressive dinner she is planning for an enrichment activity in a couple weeks. Then I thought, "#10 Can Caravan." Quite cheesy, but I like rhyming. Then I thought, "Meet and Greet the Wheat." More cheesy rhyming. I've never been too good at naming things, except for my kids. I like all my kid's names. Then I started stressing that the session was coming to an end. She went to my neck and hairline. Then Pachelbel's Canon in D actually did come on. I thought, "How good am I for knowing my Baroque composers?" Except, I didn't think "Baroque" because I didn't know it was Baroque. I just Googled Pachelbel and saw that. I also just found some girl on imeem.com (one of my favorite sites) who has a playlist of 57 versions of Canon in D. Cool! It's one of my favorite songs.

Finally the session ended. She put my robe at my feet and told me to continue breathing and that there was no hurry and she left the room. So I laid there and breathed and wondered if it would be ok to take a nap. I didn't want to leave, but I reluctantly got up after about 3 minutes, robed myself and left the small, quiet, secluded room. Christie met me with a glass of water and told me to take my time and make myself at home. Make myself at home? Ok. A little more noise please. Do you have a TV so I can watch Dora? Do you have a computer so I can check my email, facebook and favorite blogs? Do you have a few naked Barbies I can throw on the floor? There were fruit snacks, packages of pretzels, and champagne. They were good choices, but I really wanted some macaroni and cheese, animal crackers, and milk. Instead of eating I decided to read a book called, It's a Mom Thing by Tina Neidlein. It made me smile. It was a collection of her 1 or 2 sentence thoughts about motherhood. Here I found someone who violated some copyright laws so you can read it too.

Then I decided it was time to go. I wanted to stop by Comcast, Whole Foods, and Goodwill in the remaining 2 hours I had left before I needed to be home. Now, Christie pointed out the shower to me. Did that mean that I was supposed to take a shower. I really didn't feel like it. I kind of liked the feel of the oils on my body. Would they think I was gross if I didn't shower? I opted to just get dressed and go on my merry way. I handed the receptionist my gift certificate and I was back out into the loud, bright, real world again with the sounds of birds minus the Pachelbel.

I dropped by Comcast to get a new remote for our cable box. We have two, but the fast forward doesn't work on one and the volume doesn't work on the other and neither one of them have the battery cover and we get tired of holding two remotes while we watch TV and constantly trying to find the 4 AA batteries that belong on them which are usually between the cushions of the couch or under the couch. I was afraid that they wouldn't give me a new one since I didn't have the old one, but the lady handed me a nice shiny new remote with no questions asked. She told me that the old one (I didn't let on that I had two already) probably just lost it's programming and that I needed to reprogram it. I told her that I thought it was just broken. She insisted that it needed to be programmed. I decided to leave it at that and and not get into how the remote has teeth marks and had been through a LOT of wear and tear the past couple of years. What mattered was that I had the new remote in my hand for free.

Next I went to Whole Foods. I don't usually go there, but it seems like the appropriate thing to do after getting a massage. I actually did want to go there because I was looking for Agar to make microbiology agar plates for the awesome science camp I have planned for my kids this summer. I found it, but it was $7.69 for 11 tablespoons. I decided I could probably find it online for cheaper including shipping. I looked around some more and left empty-handed except for the sample of buffalo jerky the employee offered me. I don't think I would accept a sample of buffalo jerky at a normal grocery store, but it's got to be safe at Whole Foods, right?

My final stop was Goodwill. I wanted to self-indulge a little more and buy something. I almost bought a black and white polka dot skirt. Polka dots make me happy these days. But I tried it on and it was a little short for my liking. It looked fine while I was standing up, but I'm sure any man sitting next to me in church won't care to see my hairy thighs when I sit down. Then I wanted to buy a bike for Emily because she is outgrowing hers. There were no prices on them so I asked and they priced them at $14 which I thought was too much for the rusty, nasty, pieces of junk. I was hoping for a price of $6. I'm going to hold out and hope to find a banana seat bike for her someday. Ideally a purple glitter one like I had when I was a kid. So I went back inside and found 3 children's books, Homer Price, Pippi Goes on Board, and some hard back kid's book about Grains. Then I found a cute black and white toile handbag. It was very cute and I got it. It would be a perfect scripture case. I am guessing it might have been a friend of mine's? She had a garage sale this past week and it looks like something that would've been hers.

Then it was time to go home. Time to go home to peanut butter and jelly sandwich makers like this because Mama ain't cookin tonight:

Must stick tongue out when concentrating.

"My cut it!"

"I need help."

That mess is from the tortilla jelly burrito he made when my back was turned while I was getting the dishes washed and dessert ready (Tollhouse chocolate chip cookie dough.)