by lauralavigne | May 16, 2012 10:14 am
Picture this:
A dimly lit, quiet room with beautiful music coming out of … somewhere. A bunch of recliners, with cozy blankets on each one of them. A door. A door that closes and on the other side of which you have left your cell phone. No one knows you’re there (unless you told them) AND it is 1 PM on a Tuesday.
Add to that a warm rice-filled pillow that you are invited to put behind your neck – or on your chest or wherever the heck you want.
Picture being invited to sit down and stay for a good while. While receiving an acupuncture treatment.
Welcome to Skagit Community Acupuncture, a [1]practice which is set up in such a way that it is sustainable for both the clinic and the patients.
Because the patients all share a room while they nap with needles poking out of their body, Dana and her partner Cheryl are able to keep the prices super affordable. In fact, their payment policy looks like this:
So that’s what I did, yesterday. I napped with strangers.
I highly recommend it.
by lauralavigne | May 16, 2012 8:00 am
I know it, darn it.
Every once in a while, I promise myself never to do it again. And I always do it again.
I keep my bras too long.
I keep my bras past the point where they no longer do what I hire them to do which is well… to make me look good. Of course, there is the whole comfort and support thing but the make me look good part is their main job.
And so I buy a bra and it’s so pretty. And I wear it. And I wear it. And while it’s still pretty after a few months, it no longer makes ME look pretty. But it’s still pretty so I keep it – and I wear it. Even though it is no longer doing its job. Would you keep a secretary who looked pretty sitting at her desk painting her nails all day long? Heck no.
No more.
Yesterday, I wore a new bra and two seconds after I put it on, I remembered. I remembered how a relatively small investment can make such a big difference. I instantly felt great. I felt taller, I felt lighter.
So what did I do? I walked straight to my closet and fired all my lazy bras – which was most of my staff.
Then, throughout the day, I was told : “I really like this shirt you’re wearing.” Or “I think you’re getting really toned.” That kind of things that makes you smile inside and wonder “Why the heck did I wait so long??”
So here’s my ode to new bras.
Get them. You deserve them. Even if no one but you ever sees them, you deserve to feel great and well … supported.
To get you inspired to fire your staff, here is a little clip from Oprah’s “Bra Intervention” – as well as a great link [1] on “bra-like bathing suits” for those of us who were blessed with a wee bit more to take to the beach.
by lauralavigne | May 13, 2012 6:16 pm
Me – admiring the bright orange of Costa’s freshly squeezed orange juice: “Wow, I love this color. I want to live in a house in Mexico this color. Wanna live with me in Mexico?”
Costa – “When?”
Me – “I dunno. In a few years”
Costa – “In a few years … after I’m 18?”
Me – “Yeah”
Costa – “Oh, I can’t do it then. I’m gonna be busy.”
Me – “Busy doing what?”
Costa – “Everything”
Happy Mother’s Day to me …
by lauralavigne | May 13, 2012 9:24 am
I had never held a baby until the doctor handed me my daughter.
I spent ten consecutive years either pregnant or nursing – occasionally both (I had always thought it was eight, but I just re-counted and nope. It was ten)
One day, when my daughter was fifteen, I truly agreed that her liking me was no longer a priority. Until then, I only paid lip service to the concept.
My very favorite memory as an adult is a two minute moment as my three kids and I crossed the border into Mexico, after a looooong road trip in our Subaru – howling as loudly as I could.
No matter what, I always feel as though I am not doing enough.
I would give a year of my life in exchange for taking back terrible things I said to my kids in anger. Okay, I would give two years of my life.
I know that sometimes, in trying to compensate for the way I was raised, I went way overboard in the other direction. And I’m pretty sure my kids will do the same.
Celebrating my kids’ independence as they grow up – while I long to keep them close – is one of the most confusing feeling.
Lately, I find myself often fantasizing about going back in time for just one day – and having them all be little again. Just one day.
Watching them navigate the word with anticipation and a sense of “heck yeah, I can do this” completely fills my cup.
Sharing a meal – or a trip to the grocery store - with all three of them can give me the best adventure, conversation and laughter I know.
Raising kids is and has been the biggest privilege of my life.
One last one: I was told over and over again that if I kept on holding my babies all the time and not letting them cry, they would never become independent. HA!
by lauralavigne | May 11, 2012 2:07 pm
I occasionally get into fairly extreme levels of anemia. This does not make for a super interesting topic and is not the subject of this story, but rather, the background.
Last night, I was really low. So low that I felt that I needed to be next to another human being in order to not let go and pass out. My oldest son was home and even though I know that his 17-yr old-ness does not predispose him for wanting a lot of physical proximity to his mom (that would be me), I walked into his bedroom, more on automatic pilot than on reason.
He was in his typical position: on his bed, focused on his laptop’s screen and feet dangling off the edge. He saw me walk in, looked up and said “Hey” before returning to his computer.
I kept walking and seeing an empty spot on the bed, lowered myself onto it. He looked up again. I grabbed a piece of blanket and covered myself. Feeling so cozy, I closed my eyes.
A little floaty, I was aware of the late sun shining into the room, of the feeling of the firm mattress under me and of my kid’s presence by my side. It all felt good, safe, and I let myself sink into the moment fully.
After a while, I could feel him turning frequently to look at me. At one point, I opened my eyes and caught his glance. He looked confused and said: ”Um. What are you doing?” Not having a whole lot of energy, I replied “Just resting. Being with you.”
A little time passed and finally, he turned to me and said: “Mom, this is weird. You cant just hang out here.” It took a while for his words to make their way to my foggy brain and when they did, the idea of having to get up felt like a huge project. A project onto which I couldn’t see adding a conversation, an explanation, a request nor an argument. So I got up.
And as I started to walk out, I heard him say awkwardly: “I mean… you know, I just dont like having people in my room.”
And that’s when my little inner smile lit up. That’s when I knew that iron levels or not, I was going to be just fine. Because, even though I didn’t have it in me to do a whole lot of talking, I still was able to crack myself up by replying “well, you know, I wasn’t so crazy about having people in my womb either.”