Grown Up Hobbies

There comes a time in every woman's life when she knows she has become an adult.  For some its landing that first big girl professional job.  For others it's having children or buying furniture of their choosing as opposed to relative hand-me-downs or thrift store bargains.  Well, in spite of being 7 months pregnant those are not the experiences that confirm for me I am a full grown woman.

No, my indicator is this-- I have a massage therapist.  

I'm not just telling folks that I get massages here and there, I'm telling them I have a massage therapist.  "When I went to massage therapist today, he told me the most amazing thing about my root chakra..."--you know, that kind of stuff.  There is an established relationship built up here.  That's right, I've essentially got someone on my very own payroll, if you will.  I've been seeing him once a month since I got pregnant.  I really see it as an extension of my prenatal care.  I'm going to spend all kinds of money on Dr. visits and prenatal vitamins (insurance doesn't deem them essential enough to chip in, I love it) and clothes to cover my burgeoning belly so why wouldn't I have this service as well?  I see it not as a self-care indulgence, I see it as a necessity.  Listen, my hips are spreading off in opposing directions, can you really argue with me?  That is not comfortable, nor are the leg cramps or stretched tendons or skin expanding straight out from my body.  

And so I have now added Victor to my team of necessities.  Well, maybe my stylist is the only other one on the team but it's an important group and I don't foresee him leaving after I've gotten this baby out.  How will my hips ever return from their distant lands without him?  Did I mention he'll do wonders for your aches and pains as well?  Oh, you just gotta go see him, I'll get you his card...