July 30, 2013

Why I DON'T workout.

See, I could have written why I CAN'T workout, but I don't want to sound like I'm carrying around 10 pounds of baby weight AND 5 pounds of excuses.  I DON'T workout because when I do, this shit happens....

I have been pretty motivated (for me, that is--everything's relative, you know) about working out lately.
  • I have been inspired by Sue Diamond-Philips at Diapers or Wine?.  Mama is rockin' a hot bod after crap tons of HARD WORK and she is not shy about the before-and-afters.  I want to say "unbelievable" but they are totally not unbelievable for all the effort.  UH-mazing!  
  • I also have a neighbor who is working her butt off, too.  She runs, so naturally I don't ask if I can workout with her, but she works up a sweat regularly.  She's done some runs and one of those muddy run things which is just combining two things that don't appeal to me in the least bit--getting covered with muck, and running.  No need to make room on the bucket list for that one.
  • Then there's my sister-in-law who does triathalons and stuff.  She works her butt off too and I'm sure she'd give me a great kick in the ass if we lived closer than 4 hours apart.
Anyway, I keep actually WANTING to workout, but honestly haven't had time.  Any normal week has it's own challenges, but this past week was pretty cray-cray with the local fair. We're not major fair-going folk, but I had to represent at our booth for work two nights and Slim had two shifts at his Cub Scouts smoothie stand.  This made for three nights in a row of 10 pm bedtime (and my crew is usually in bed by 8) and subsequent days of lost naps by The Geel, which made the next bedtime painfully long and drug out, etc. etc. etc.  
Twilight at the fair
Anyway, was I writing about working out? Oh yeah.  So today I actually had TIME.  TIME to workout. Now of course, since I haven't done it in, well honestly probably almost or maybe more than a year, I was kinda lost.  I mean, I've been thinking about it A LOT, but I was thinking about, like, how good I could look, and how I was kinda wanting to feel that after-workout soreness I haven't felt in longer than I can remember, and about how much better my clothes will fit.  (The wardrobe is in protest.)  I hadn't actually got around to the logistics of doing it.
Fashion first, baby!
Thank goodness for Xfinity on Demand.  The Sports & Fitness section has a metric crap-ton of choices. Almost too many--I kind froze up for a few seconds before I found something quick I could start out with while Slim helped The Geel finish up lunch.  I ran back to my bedroom, threw on some almost-too-"fitted" workout pants and dialed up some fitness On Demand.  So my first choice was an 8 minute butt number.

This chick promises me that I will feel all of this tomorrow.  I was feeling it after the second rep, but I'm an overachiever like that, so....  The thing you really want to pay attention to is the little extras I threw in just to challenge myself.  First Slim comes in in half a pirate outfit that needed the belt untied.  Now if you're gonna add this step, PLEASE be sure that the belt is knotted in at least 6 (yes, 6!) places.  Otherwise, what's the point?  Oh, and be sure that your child times it perfectly so that you are in a sideways facing lunge and that you untie the last two knots in a low isometric hold while your knee is hovering millimeters from the floor and you can no longer feel your left butt cheek.  That's when you're doing it right. 

On your next move make sure your toddler yells for you incessantly from the kitchen with increasing volume and intensity, until you are no longer able to not respond.  It is certain that Slim would not let any harm come to her, but she could care less about that because I'm not in the room so everything is an emergency that requires screaming for mommy.  Be sure that when you yell at the top of your lungs to answer her that you lose track of your reps and then miss switching sides so that one side gets WAY more worked out than the other. (And I'll probably be walking with a limp tomorrow.)  And also, it really amps up your intensity, when your two-year-old is, in fact, yelling, "MOMMY, I POOPED!!!!" so timing is really critical.

After adding a jog to the kitchen to rescue the toddler and change a diaper, I decided to try a second short workout.  Why not?  Everything was going great so far.  I opted for 10-minute basic Pilates.  This is best accomplished by keeping the toddler with you in the room, because after you lose the first 40 of the Pilates 100 to correcting your toddlers's positioning (they are the best workout partners--ALWAYS challenging you) you can make up that lost sweat trying to maintain your position and your breathing while having the toddler climb all over you like a human jungle gym.  Then to top it all off, (AGAIN, the timing!) be sure that the toddler leaves the room from boredom, then returns just as you are lowering you leg in a single leg circle that clocks her in the noggin.  Then you get to end your workout, snuggling with your crying baby and apologizing for trying to fit back into your pre-baby body jeans.
Oh well. Maybe next time.

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July 23, 2013

The Laws Of Laundry

I'm no expert at a lot of things, but I've done a load of laundry or two or 1,000 in my day.  In fact, I've done no less than 7 in the last 18 hours.  And although I couldn't possibly hope to ever be finished the laundry (ever.) I have definitely learned much along the way and feel obligated to share with you my knowledge on the subject.

1. The one piece of clothing that you missed grabbing out of the hamper is the exact thing that your preteen daughter NEEDS to wear today. 

2. The moment you remember to throw a load in to wash that blouse/work shirt/pair of jeans you need, is exactly the same moment three people in your household will need to take a shower, and precisely the same moment you remember that you loaded the dishwasher and forgot to start it.

3. You can never buy too much detergent. Maybe this is just my own personal hoarding issue, but when detergent goes on sale, I stock up.  When Sharknado hits or the zombie apocalypse comes, you may have plenty of water and canned goods stowed away, but how are you going to wash those blood-stained clothes?

4. If and when it ever so happens that you "finish" all of your laundry (finished laundry--does that qualify as an oxymoron?) and by "finish" I mean the 11 seconds of peace you have when......
  • all of the laundry in the laundry room is actually laundered 
  • you take a breath before you start folding all of it and
  • not quite enough time has passed that the hampers are full again
....that is when your toddler will smear and spill strawberries, ketchup and/or chocolate down the front of her shirt, and you will actually wish you had laundry to do.  Instead you cross your fingers and Spray n' Wash the shirt like Al Pacino in Scarface.

5. The day you come home from vacation with all of your souvenir knick-knacks, t-shirts (more laundry?) and dirty clothes is the day your washer will break.  Hopefully you won't have to wait 10 days for the repairman.  Hopefully.

6. Your washer will go wildly and loudly off balance right about the time your toddler drifts off to sleep for her 37 minute nap after 45 minutes spent reading, singing and laying down with her.

7. Never forget to check your own pockets. I am usually good at checking the kids clothes for the usual detritus that could end up going the distance in the washer and dryer, including but not limited to: jewelry, coins, Legos, rocks,  barrettes, wrappers, wads of paper, paper clips, lip balm and/or gloss (my biggest peeve), pens (usually The Sarge), keys, erasers, and money.  There may or may not have recently been a still-wrapped-but-very-bloated "emergency" maxi pad I vaguely recall stashing in my pocket the other day that, upon it's removal from the dryer, inspired this post.

And while I was writing this (for reals) The Sarge found his "lost" debit card.

I can't make this crap up.....

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July 8, 2013

A Monday Montage

Last week I turned 40.  For the past several years The Sarge and I have gone out to an expensive dinner for my birthday.  And really, that's about all we could have managed the last two years anyway, with a clingy infant on our hands.

This year I wanted to do something a little different and so we made plans to go to New York City with some good friends, bum around the Lower East Side and get dinner and drinks. It was a ton of fun and a success on other levels as well (childcare, to name one.)

A gorgeous day in the city.  A view from The New Museum.

Views from the streets.

This place.  Like a walk down memory lane, and a place to buy a new favorite t-shirt.

The downside.

Despite the blisters (there was a matching one on the other pinky toe), I am already thinking about next year.  Happy Birthday to me!

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