For a long time I’ve always said that I’ll have kids when I can grow them in a tube and pick ‘em up when they’re hot and toasty and ready to come home. That way – no pain and no pregnancy gain. Everyone wins. Mostly me. But that’s really who counts the most anyway.
I’ve also said that were I to date someone with kids (and…here I am…doing just that) that it would be totally cool since then I don’t have to do the work myself – well the work of actually spewing them from my own loins.
See – I’m fairly certain I would hold a massive grudge against them for ruining my already not-as-perfect-as-it-could-be-damn-you-mountain-dew-addiction body. I don’t need any help not going to the gym and drinking too much soda. Also? I worked retail for a number of years and I just know I’d totally be one of those moms in there sobbing by the jeans and dreaming of when they were a size 2 and now they are a size 8 and omg NEVER HAVE KIDS THEY WILL RUIN YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME??
Guess what? Even when the children are not exactly yours – you can still blame them for gaining weight or not having enough time to get to the gym. I, personally, would do both, because that’s what kids are for: to do the stuff you don’t want to do around the house and take the blame for everything else. Neat, huh?
Due to my totally awesome work schedules (oh yes, that’s plural), one of them ironically at the gym, it leaves me with about two to three days of the week that I can work out. Sure, this sounds like enough time, until you factor in having a child 2-3 days of the week, on the exact same days that I am either not working both jobs, or am not working late at the first one.
Really what this boils down to is not having time to make it to any of the group exercise classes that typically start at either 5:40pm on weekdays and 5:15pm on Fridays, and then Saturday and Sunday mornings. I can do self-directed exercise, I have for years. However, to see actual results,I need someone up on a raised platform that looks like Bootcamp Barbie, yelling at me to feel the burn. Otherwise, two bicep curls with a five pound weight and I'm throwing in the towel.
What this usually means is that if the Daughter wants to play Frisbee like a mental patient, which is pretty much just throwing it around the yard randomly and then running to go get it and doing it all over again, count me in! You want someone to run around the park with you like a monkey on hot sand? I’m your gal. Don’t mind me if it sounds like I’m counting to myself, I’m just adding up all the calories I’m potentially burning.