Tuesday, April 13, 2010


So I went to the gym today. For the first time in six years. That's right. As in 72 months of not working out prior to now. I thought it was time to get back on the horse. The horse that is now gray, lame, swayback and cantankerous.
  • Really small and awfully uncomfortable sport's bra. Check.
  • 6 year old New Balance running shoes. Check
  • Children dressed, clean, and somewhat well fed to be received by free babysitting in gym. Check.
We arrive at the gym. We park at the gym. We walk in, hand in hand, like three lost birds looking for a Starbucks but instead dutifully flying toward the gym.

We stand behind the desk to get a picture taken for a photo ID since we're newcomers to this here enormous facility with the golden promise of personal space and parental freedom as well as 60 glorious minutes of uninterrupted time with an ipod that has only been used once before.

The picture is taken. The man smiles nicely and answers the phone. We wait politely and when he finishes being on the phone, we ask for a welcome packet. Because he is busy and because we have no idea where the babysitting room might be in this huge building.

We receive said packet, grab a few catalogs on the covers of which have pictures of pretty moms smiling with their over the top happy children. "They probably work out at this gym." I tell myself. Grayson looks up at me with his drippy big brown eyes and sniffs three times in a row. Then he sneezes. Because Abby is not to be outdone, she giggles then somehow manifests two baby sneezes in her own right. I look at my children more closely. They both have runny noses. Not stay home from public places green, run-for-your-life runny noses but still. Probably just allergies.

I rake my hands through Grayson's sweet felt bedhair. I kiss Abby's warm cheek.

We walk out of the building, hand in hand, like three lost birds looking for a warm nest of bedsheets and Spiderman blankets to climb into for the rest of this rainy afternoon.

Maybe tomorrow we'll get past the front desk.


pajama mom said...

dear cantankerous,
the id picture is the worst part.
p.s. i have yet to use my ipod.

One Sided Momma said...

dear ornery,

i'm so going to miss you in august.

cantakerous and proud

p.s. our ipods hate us.