On Doing Something for Myself


I recently decided to do something for myself.

Our “spare time” during the day usually consists of taking the kids to things they like to do such as the library, the children’s museum or the park. And when we go shopping, I bolt straight for the kiddie section. I just can’t help myself.

But recently, I did something just for myself.  I joined a gym.

I can’t find much time to go by myself without the kids, so I joined the only gym in this whole area that has child care. There are a few things that make it difficult, though. The gym is about 20 or so minutes away and the child care is only open during certain hours. And, you have to schedule ahead of time to make sure there is enough space available for your child.

On one particular day last week while Gwyn was at preschool, I decided I really wanted to try out a spin class at 12:00 pm. I had called ahead and reserved a spot for Cal in the child care, I had snacks packed for him in case he got hungry, I put him down for his nap right on time so that we wouldn’t have to rush out of the house, and I was all geared up to go myself.

He usually wakes up around 10:30 am, so time wasn’t an issue.

Or so I thought.

Well on this ONE day….the one day that I actually wanted to do something for myself, Baby Cal decided to sleep in.

Like, really sleep in.

I watched the clock like a hawk counting down how long I would have to nurse, change and dress Baby Cal, as well as drive there, in order to make it on time. And as the clock kept creeping forward and forward, I began pacing and pacing.

Do I wake him up? No, never wake a sleeping baby. Do I stomp a little louder around the house?  Ehhhhh…..???

I decided on busting out in a loud whistling tune outside his door, and I may have even done a little jig, which was stupid since he couldn’t even see me, all of which did no good. I then loaded  everything up in the car and came back in and he still wasn’t up.

Now he had been napping over an hour longer than he ever does and I couldn’t help but be annoyed by the fact that he chose this day to catch up on his zzzzzz’s. I decided to sneak in his room because maybe he was just on the cusp of awakening and once he heard the door open he would pounce right up.

He didn’t budge.

So I just stared at him with my hands on my hips. Like maybe if I stared hard enough he’d wake up. And then I grabbed a wipe and blew my nose. Nothing.

I turned off his sound machine.


I then saw crusted boogies on his nose and started to wipe them off. He didn’t budge.

Noted. Good time to wipe baby nose is when you need to go somewhere and he’s sleeping. Works like a charm.

I turned on his light.


Now I was really pressing it for time. It was 11:30. I was about to throw in the snot rag when he made a slight move.

There we have it! He’s up!

I snatched Baby Cal out of his crib and rushed over to the couch to nurse him. Nursing him these days takes only but a few minutes, but of course today he decided to lollygag.

Tic tock, tic tock….

While nursing I walked Cal to his room and put him on the changing table… still attached.

Now, I have a rather small chest so we were pretty much face to face as I leaned over him. My thinking here was that I could multitask.

I started to try and undress him to change his diaper while he sucked away, unzipping his pajamas and shimmying his little legs out of the holes. Mind you it’s rather hard to see while doing this, but I did manage to find a little viewing space under my armpit.

Once undressed I took off his diaper and immediately decided this was a bad choice. His little man part was aimed right at my eye and there was nothing I could do.

That, and he had pooped.

Thankfully, he finished up and I was able to re-diaper him like a ninja. I decided dressing him would take too much time so I put those legs right back in the pajamas and went to the living room to put him in the carseat.

Then, as I was flying around the house I felt bad for the kid and didn’t want him to be the one kid in his pajamas at noon so I triple-jumped to his room, grabbed some clothes, triple jumped back to the living room and squeezed his little baby bod into them in record time as he stared up at me, open-mouthed and in a daze.

Of course I forgot socks, which I admit I thought about skipping for a mere second, but just couldn’t so back I went.

I got us out the door and drove to the next town while hardly speeding, but ended up having to park about a quarter-mile away. Because taking Cal out of his carseat would take too long, I grabbed the seat with him in it out of the car, (which, mind you, is about thirty-five pounds total) threw the diaper bag (another twenty or so pounds)  over my shoulder and began my hobble-jog over to the gym.

Did I mention it was snowing?

Sweaty and tired, I made it to Kiddie Care with minutes to spare. Once he was settled in I booked it out the door and ran up the gym stairs, two at a time, and managed to find the last bike in the entire spin class as the music began, signaling the start of class.

And I was beat.


AND I had to leave early so that I could get back in time to pick up Gwyneth.

So from this experience I concluded that all I need to do is run around town in the snow with my child in his carseat and I am ensured a great workout.

Pff. FAIL.


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