A Scene from the Gym

Husband is out of town again this week. That means I get to decide the schedule the little ladies and I will adopt whilst he is away. I really wanted to go back to a yoga class I enjoyed a few weeks ago. However, it starts at 7, lasts an hour and I can't imagine keeping the little ladies out past 7:30 on a school night. So, I opted for the Pilates Mat class at 5:45. I realized the dent this could make in our dinner schedule, but we went anyway. I packed dinners for the girls to eat at childcare if they were hungry. Then I scampered off to my class.

The class was wonderfully torturous. It was complete with threats from the trainer to require horrible numbers of push-ups if you cheated on your bicycle crunches. By the end of class each participant was grunting, groaning and had learned new counting methods (1, 2, 10, 26, 39, 75, ...). Once it was done I proceeded, very gingerly, to get my girls.

It turns out they had only touched their Motts for Tots and the meal was as it had been when I dropped it off. The main reason the food was intact was the amount of fun that was had by both little ladies in the childcare room. The room was a shambles. Tiny chairs were overturned. Toys were strewn from one end of the room to the other. Panda Girl had even relinquished her cherished panda and had no idea where she had left it. I told them to head for the elevators.

Evidently my words were translated in little lady speak as "run as fast as possible and in opposite directions and let's see if Mama can catch us". Panda Girl ran one way. Sweet Pea ran the other. I can't run. My leg muscles were the exact consistency of jello. Luckily another little girl ran toward Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea ran towards me to get away from the "scary" five year old. Panda Girl ran past the elevators into the tennis pro shop. Where the staff behind the desk proceeded to encourage her by talking to her and calling her. She knew they were telling her that she is cute. So, she played to the crowd. Sweet Pea ran to the elevators since pushing the elevator buttons is her hobby.

After another few minutes of chaos, I wrangled Panda Girl and dragged her to the elevators. Once inside our very own elevator there was the typical fight over pressing the buttons. Sweet Pea beat Panda Girl to it, so to retaliate Panda Girl hit the alarm button. Soon a voice, that can only be described as what I would imagine the voice of God to sound like, came over a speaker asking us the nature of our emergency. I quickly explained the situation. Thankfully the big voice laughed.

We did eventually get home. While it was an ordeal, all I could do was laugh. Then I laughed some more. Then I cried because my tummy muscles were so sore.