Middle of the night last night, I awake to Jon crawling into bed. "Where were you?" I ask. "In the kitchen," he replies. Strange, I think. Why was he in the kitchen in the middle of the night? I make a mental note to ask him in the morning. This morning, I slip in and out of sleep as he gets ready for work, and I remember to ask him why he was in the kitchen. His response: "I heard some noises in the kitchen. I think our little friends are back." NO. Not our little friends. I HATE our little friends. Here we go again.
I started going to an exercise class called "Strollercise." Yes, I know, the name sounds a bit hoaky...and reminds one of "jazzercise," which brings to mind women in pink and purple full body leotards, leg warmers, sweatbands, and big hair. Rest assured, my friends, I don't own any leotards (full body or otherwise). Strollercise is basically one of the best exercise classes I've been to in a long time. (Okay, let's be honest, it's the only exercise class I've been to in a long time). It's an hour and a half of intense workout. I went two days ago and my muscles are still sore today. On Tuesday we were working with weights. The instructor told us at the beginning of the class to grab two sets of weights--a heavy set and a light set. Because this was only my second class and we hadn't worked with weights the last time, I asked her a clarifying question. She then asked me if I had worked with weights before (she must not have noticed my well-sculpted arms). I said no, so she gave me a light pair and told me to use these for the entire class, even when she would instruct the class to pick up their heavy weights. SO, the class continues and we work on and off with the weights (and run laps, use the medicine ball, do squats, etc.). At the end of the class, everyone is supposed to do one more lap around the track and then go back to their places and get their heavy weights. Well, as I am nearing the end of my lap, I can see two little kids playing near my mat. When I get back there, I find that my weights are gone...but there's a little boy playing with them (That's how light they were!). So, I ask him if I can have my weights back. He stares at me. I ask again. He continues to stare. I ask if I can play with those weights for a while. Still staring. Then his dad notices (yes, men are in this class, too--I'm telling you, it's a good class) and says, "oh, here, you can use these weights" and tries to hand me some heavy weights. Ugh oh. "Thanks, but I was really hoping for the light ones." So the dad has the little boy give me the weights. Now I don't think the dad knew that the little boy had taken the weights from my mat. SO, I am not only the woman who needs the wimpy weights, but I'm also the mean one who takes weights from a little kid. Sigh.
Jon, Laurel, and I have been taking a swim class two times a week. Laurel loves it. She doesn't seem to notice that the water is cold. Tonight we're having her friends from her swim class (and their parents, who are our friends) over for a chili supper after class. I suppose I should clean the house and make the chili.
Laurel and I are getting ready to go to Michigan next week. That's the news from here. I will try to post some new pictures soon.
1 comment:
Chili sounds great after a chilly dip in the pool. Nice to know Jon is still in your life. After hearing so much about Laurel, I wondered what he was doing. Ok I wore leotards and jazzercise was fun - more like dancing class. However I spent much of my time laughing at myself because of the crazy moves I was doing compared to what I was supposed to be doing. When I took dancing lessons as a child I would be in tears if something didn't go right. Laughing at myself is much better.
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