Massage Mondays

Mondays mean baby massage. Mum has decided to pay someone to show her how to stroke my legs with cooking oil. It turns out it’s quite a fine art – there’s a manual and everything.

The class always starts with that typical baby group thing where you go round the room saying what’s been special about this week for you and your baby. Obviously the babies don’t get a say so the mums say stuff like,

‘Oh so and so has just started to absolutely love it when I sing the Row, row, row the boat.’


‘It’s been a big week for us. So and so is really enjoying books.’

Then the nice lady teacher cranks the heating up, puts the background whale music on and the massage eventually starts. Now, you might be thinking this all sounds very calming, but unfortunately there’s normally a couple of squealers in the room. And, as if that isn’t disturbing enough, there’s always this bit at the beginning where all the mums rub their hands together and lean over the babies and ask:

‘Permission to massage?’ and I generally can’t help but squirm at this point and someone will pipe up,

‘Oh look how excited your little one is!’

Then, as we’re getting oiled up, the nice teacher says things in her really soft voice like,

‘Remember massaging the head can be very emotional – it’s ok if you or the baby find it emotional. They might cry and that’s ok.’ And I’m there thinking,

‘What? It’s not ok. It’s not emotional – it’s just a massage and I’m trying to relax here.’



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