I last visited an osteopath ten years ago who asked me to strip down to my pants and bra, which made me instantly suspicious.  He rubbed my back and I was out in 30 minutes.  I remember thinking ‘thank f*ck I shaved my legs’ and not feeling any better when I left.  I never returned.

Today was no different in the stripping department, I was so grateful for big pants.  This osteopath was passionate about his work, throughout my 55 minute appointment he told me in detail what he was doing and why.  Unfortunately this fell on deaf ears as all I could think about was my wobbly thighs … wobbling and my jelly belly … rippling as he manipulated me.

At one point he asked if I’d received the introduction letter telling me what to expect during the session.  ‘Did he not like my big pants?’ I thought, or ‘Maybe it’s because my big black pants don’t match my big white, but graying, bra?’. Although I had shaved my legs I certainly wasn’t going to be wearing my ‘best/lacy/push me up/crotchless’ underwear for such an appointment.  I jest about the crotchless variety of underwear of course.  Actually, I don’t think I own any lacy push me up underwear either.

He waggled my legs lots and did some hip thrusting (his not mine).  He was sure to always avert his eyes away from my pants and bra areas and was keen to make sure I wasn’t uncomfortable whilst he contorted me into strange shapes to ‘pop’ my back.  At one point I thought if he moved me another inch I would be so compressed that I would fart meaning I could never return due to the shame.

As he asked me to curl into a ball on his work table and started fiddling with my spine whilst thrusting his hips to keep my legs moving I wondered what my husband would have thought had he burst into the room at that moment, then I remembered that approximately a year ago my husband was laid on this same table being thrust at in the same manner.

Err, reading this back I wouldn’t be surprised if some of you suggested I report the osteopath to the Bureau of Osteopathic Perversion but it was all above board … just very intimate and extremely thorough.

The upshot is that I now know how to sit in a chair properly, I have a realigned pelvis and I can walk without looking like I’ve crapped myself.

I have to go back next week.  I shall be wearing REALLY big pants and a bra that starts at my chin and sweeps down to my knees.  Yes, I am aware that no such thing exists but I shall whittle one together this week … all in the sake of dignity.

We have received our itinerary and it’s going to be non stop.

Non stop eating, rides, shows (Did you know there is such a thing as Finding Nemo – The Musical?) … early starts. I will be found slumped at the end of the table most mornings with bloodshot eyes and a caffeine drip.

I have started having anxiety dreams which I tend to get before I go away anywhere, with or without the children. This is coupled with anxiety filled wittering when I am left to think alone for too long. The good news is that the anxiety ends on the day of travel, which is good news for my fellow travellers.

I realised the anxiety levels were rising last night when the husband was engrossed in his book. I lay next to him firing ridiculous questions about time zones, hair straighteners and adaptor plugs.

After getting little response I lay there having conversations with myself, in my head of course;

Do I take the ipod? The ipod, thing of beauty, was a 30th birthday present. It is now a family pet. Can I justify taking it away from my children for my own pleasure? What will they sing to over their cereal? Could they just jam in a freestyle manner to Mamma Mia without music? Will I need to listen to music when no doubt Disney will be piped full of irritating theme tunes. Yes, I need to take the ipod or ear plugs.

Will I be sick on a rollercoaster? I have never been sick on a rollercoaster. Why would I be sick on a rollercoaster?

When I am sick on the rollercoaster will I be sick on one of my new blogging friends?

What do I take on a ten hour flight? I can only stuff so much in the laptop case. Do I need some of those attractive stockings to prevent DVT?

Will I sleepwalk? The last episode of sleepwalking was circa 1996 when I woke up running down the stairs … away from the huge mechanical spider which was trying to eat me.

Will I sleepwalk into the corridor and out of the hotel and be found on a rollercoaster the following morning?

I only wear big pants to bed. Should I buy some pyjamas?

I was busted last week. The 4 year old found out about my solo trip. She was fairly cool about it.

The house was empty and I decided to watch a promotional DVD someone has given me about Walt Disney World, Florida. Having never visited Disney I thought it would give me an overview of what to expect. Just as I was getting into it the house was awash with people. The 4 year old plonked herself down.

4 year old - Oooooh Cinderella

Me - Yes, it is

4 year old - Look at all those children. Is that where we’re going?

Me - Well, here’s the thing, next week I am going there for ‘work’.

4 year old - Without me?

Me - Yes, for ‘work’

4 year old - But there are children there.

Me - Yes, but I have to go with other adults, there are no children going

4 year old - OK, but you will get me a photo of Cinderella won’t you

Me - Yes, WOW look at that rollercoaster, that’s looks fast. I wonder if anyone is ever sick on that one?!