|This kid here? She's chalk-filthy.|
Spoiler: my kids don’t brush their teeth before bed. They also close-handed punch each other and, occasionally, I pretend not to notice so I don’t have to juggle the drama with all of the above other nonsense. I can keep trying. I am still trying. I still need something for me, though, and it has become more and more achingly obvious in the last year or so because sanity = gone.
|So much library train table time. So. Much.|
But between those moments of imperfection and stress I have found a niche in working out. I know that’s totally cliché, but the endorphins really do help with all of the above. Plus I have connected with so many amazing people through the last few years I’ve spent sweaty time with at my local gym, people that I truly have found a connection with or can call friends/buddies/someone I can mutter cuss words to during exhausted moments without that awkward beat of uncertainty... maybe because of all the times I have come to the gym stinking of the night before’s bottle of wine. Gross. True, and way more obvious after I’m sweating, but gross.
Blah blah blah. My point is, I can officially (and so happily) say that I am a no longer a basic stay-at-home-mom. Starting November 1st I am teaching classes at my sweet little piece of exhausting, satisfying heaven! With last Thursday being my inaugural class (unofficially - I did sub for my friend’s kickboxing class a few weeks ago) I can definitely say that this wasn’t a mistake. I thought I was going to vomit all over the floor before class started from nerves and eyeballs drilling into my forehead, but by the end of it I had hit my groove and was feeling great. Tired, but great.
So, local folks: Thursdays at 9, at Four Lakes Athletic Club! Please let me beat you up! I promise it will hurt only a little. 😉