Slimming Secrets

Some workouts are harder than others. Many days I motivate myself by taking a bag with my exercise gear to my favorite clothing store that happens to be next door to the gym. I wear my FitFlops in the summer and my Reebok Easy Tone sneakers to make my walking more efficient. Why should one miss an opportunity to burn extra calories and tone?

Bruised Balls

My husband devised this cute game to encourage our kids to jump in the pool. He modifies the humpty dumpy nursery rhyme and the kids jump into our arms with my daughter reminding us she does not want to go under.

My 18 month old wanted to play too and when he last jumped into my arms he screamed in agony, drying in my shoulder. I thought his tush had brushed against the brick because he wasn’t close enough to edge. I did wave for him to come closer before taking the leap. I think. I hope.

The next day I was changing him and saw a huge rash on his tush that I thought was the result of diaper friction. He squealed when I applied the Desitin. Then I saw closer that half of his ball sack was bright red too. He must have brushed that against the brick too. I cringe thinking about his pain, the loud scream in the pool with his eyes shut and mouth agape.

I don’t know how sensitive his equipment is to pain, but I imagine it hurts. I think his penis is especially sensitive because he likes to tug it regularly.

Another Vibrating Adventure

Saying my children share a room is an embellishment. My Manhattan kiddies share a nook not legally called a bedroom because it lacks a window. A small four by four window peering into an air shaft would qualify the space as a bedroom, but alas, we just have French doors with frosted glass enclosing the two into the small space.

The cribs are close together. Less than a foot separates the space so narrow that my toddler daughter must turn sideways to squeeze into the gap that divides their respective beds. Naturally, the kids communicate to each other in the evening. On nights when my two exhaust me I will listen to the chatter upstairs with a glass of wine in my hand.

On one particular evening I had muted the television to decipher if the noise emanating from the children’s room was one that necessitated attention. With no shrieks or shrills I resumed my television viewing. Eventually I could no longer ignore the odd sounds so I ventured towards the room.

Birthday Bonanza

I spent this weekend bringing my children to a four year old’s. a three years old’s and a two year old’s birthday parties, all serving pizza and ice cream.

Not only did my children have fun, but I enjoyed visiting with the parents as mayhem ensued. The first two parties were held at the homes of the children. The suburban parents had twenty kids and lots of family in attendance. The kids jumped in the pool, competed in sack races and destroyed the pinata. When the rain began, the adults quickly deflated a fancy water slide and moved the tables and chairs inside, and the regular couches aside. Throughout the entire party, the parents were relaxed and content. I found my New Yorker self going into speed mode distributing the pizza or the cupcakes but nobody else was as rushed as myself.

The following day the three year old’s mother confided that she was a bit overwhelmed with the eight children invading her house. She had over-ordered pizza and cake while the fruit plates looked untouched. After cake her husband excused himself to watch the world cup with a friend who did not attend the party. He justified it by dutifully taking photographs during the entertainment, a singer with furry props for the children.