Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 66

“How was your day,” Amanda asked Jamie, seated on her hip and glad to be done with daycare for the day. She could tell by his expression that the answer wasn’t good. He looked gloomy, slumped over and not holding eye contact. He responded by burying his cheek in the space between her arm and her body, leaning against her and taking comfort in how soft she was. This part of being a little Jamie was coming to accept. He didn’t want to deal with his emotions, so he decided to be sullen and let someone else do the emotional heavy lifting and take care of him. That’s what they had been so eager to do, and while he’d resisted it so far, in the mood he was in, he was happy for it.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” She got him buckled in, and Jamie didn’t notice where they were going. “I got something that might you feel better, at least on the outside. Remember what we talked about? A massage? Remember?” Jamie didn’t respond. “Well, I scheduled one for us. Won’t that feel good? … Well, it will.” Jamie not speaking at all was scaring her, and though she hid it, she considered calling her mom. She decided to stay calm and give him a little more time.

She pulled up to a chain massage place and took Jamie from his seat along with his diaper bag. A woman working the front desk greeted her, speaking in an affected soothing voice over the sound of recorded nature. “Webb. We have an appointment for a mama and little massage,” Amanda said.

“Yes! We talked this morning. You’re lucky we had a cancellation. Normally we’re booked a couple weeks out. Please follow me.”

The receptionist led them through a dimly lit hallway into a dimly lit room with little- and big-sized massage tables. A small stereo was playing different nature sounds, and the room smelled of of lotions and artificially scented candles. Amanda didn’t care that the place was cheesy. She was content just to know the masseuses were licensed and the place had decent Whelp reviews.

“Your masseuses will be in shortly. If you don’t mind, could you please make sure he’s in dry underpants, and the two of you can get settled under the sheets?”

Amanda quickly changed Jamie. She knew sometimes people were sad or angry or stressed or upset and didn’t want to talk about it. That had never been Jamie’s problem though. She wondered what could have happened at daycare to put him in his funk, sure that if it was something obvious like a fight or bullying or something of that kind, Diane would have told her. Amanda put Jamie, dressed only in a clean diaper, on her shoulder and folded down the top sheet on his massage table, then ran her fingertips up and down his back the way he always liked. Funk or not, the kiss of her fingernails on the small of his back made him shudder.

“This is gonna make both of us feel really good, baby,” she whispered in his ear and kissed him on the temple. “And then we’ll figure out the rest from there. Promise.” She laid him between the sheets, then remembered his second pacifier was in the diaper bag. His lips parted as she offered it to him. Amanda undressed to her own underwear and got beneath the sheet. A few seconds later there was a knock.

“We’re ready,” Amanda answered just over a speaking voice. Two women came in and exchanged a few words with Amanda. In a minute, Jamie’s and Amanda’s backs were exposed, the sheets tucked into the top of their underwear, and gently scented oil was spread on both of them.

One of the women leaned down to Jamie and said, “Sweetie, can you tell me if it hurts?” Jamie nodded. “Okay. You just tell me if you want it softer or harder.” She began by rubbing her hands up and down either side of his spine, warming her palms and starting to loosen his back, then switching to be on his side and moving her hands briskly in opposite directions across the width of his back, starting to pull everything apart. When his back was hot to the touch from the friction, she applied more oil and began to knead his muscles from his neck down. When she reached deep soft tissue, it felt good. When she reached areas where the soft tissue was shallow and she worked over bone, it hurt.

“Harder,” Jamie said.

The masseuse found trigger point after trigger point, releasing them like fault lines pulling at tectonic plates. Jamie winced and held his breath through the worst parts, but he didn’t ask her to go lighter. She worked her way across his deltoids and down his upper arms, then gently laid them back at his sides and pulled the sheet back up. She took the bottom of the sheet and folded it up so one leg was exposed, tucking the loose end under his hip. Through his diaper, she dug into his glutes, working her hand outward to his hip. Jamie shuddered, the pleasure of her hands there catching him by surprise. She worked down his legs, through the large muscles of his thigh and then the thick muscle of his calf. It hurt, the calf. She reached his foot, and her hot hands took the chill from his soles, her kneading fingers and knuckles making his toes curl. She repeated the other side, lifted the sheet, and indicated for him to turn over.

Starting back at the top, she dug into his ribs, getting at the muscle and fascia connecting each rib to the next. It hurt. She lifted an arm and worked her way from elbow to wrist, her hands holding his forearm in place while her thumbs pressed and pulled and twisted their way out, down, and across. She shook his wrist gently, loosening his hand, and then worked his palm before tenderly placing it back at this side. She then resumed working on his legs.

He rolled back over again, and her fingers worked through his hair, kneading his scalp, and then his forehead; even pinching the skin under his eyebrows; rubbing his cheeks.

A timer dinged. “Take your time getting up and getting him dressed, and then you can go back out to the reception area.” It wasn’t a short massage, but it did go fast. The two women left.

Jamie felt loose, relaxed, relieved. He sat up with his binky still in mouth and saw Amanda sit up and stretch her arms high over her head. He’d seen her in a bikini but not topless before. It didn’t excite him or shame her.

Jamie felt like he could sit where he was for a few more hours. Amanda stood and picked him up, carrying him to the only chair in the room and resting him against her, his head over her shoulder, their skin still hot from the massage and smelling of lilac and lavender.

Amanda had read about the importance of skin-to-skin contact in her books about caring for littles, but until that day, it didn’t seem necessary or quite natural. She leaned further back so that Jamie was lying flat against her, his cheek resting on her chest. She rubbed his back and hummed the same lullaby their mom sang. Jamie held none of his own weight; he wasn’t slumped so much as limp, eyes closed and breathing slowly.

After a few minutes, she looked down to see he was asleep. She got him gently re-dressed, then herself, and carried him to the receptionist desk. His masseuse was there. Jamie was out cold. They didn’t need to keep their voices down.

“Awww. Just look at the little guy,” the masseuse cooed.

“You did a good job, I guess.”

“He’s full of knots and muscles that don’t want to move. You should think about doing this at home on a regular basis. He’s probably so used to feeling the way he does that he doesn’t know how bad all that feels.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. He carries a lot of stress.”

“And it feels like it. He’s gonna have some bruises tomorrow. Make sure he gets plenty of water to flush all the toxins out.”

Jamie slept through the car ride and woke when they got home. She carried the groggy boy inside and made him a bottle of formula as he leaned against her in that halfway space between awake and asleep.

“Buddy,” she said, “Buddy?” She brushed his cheek and he sighed. “Are you hungry?”

“No. Can I take a nap?”

“Of course.”

She laid him in his crib, pulled his clothes off of him, and made sure he had his bottle and bear and binky, and then pulled his blankie up over his shoulders. She left the door open in case he woke and needed her.