(It's sad when the baby's got more street cred than I do)
1. On Tuesday, I actually made it out to that hip-hop aerobics class I'd mentioned in my post the other day. Even though the pants (and top) I wore totally had spit up on them and weren't really exercise clothes, I still strapped on my running shoes and drove down to the class, trying not to look too much like a noob. (Of course, the fact that I asked the 20-year-olds around me if the class was hard and admitted that this was my first time out to the gym since having a baby might have given me away right then and there. Or, you know, the fact that I was terrible at it.)
Seriously, though--I was both amazed at how far I was able to make it into the class without having to really stop doing most of the moves (about 15 minutes) and totally horrified that there were so many people around to witness the fact that I can apparently not squat and hit the floor with my hand at the same time. And it's a good thing no one I knew was there because I just wanted to laugh the whole time--I wanted to laugh at the fact that I could only understand about a fourth of what my Brazilian instructor was yelling (and about 90% of that fourth was her squeak-shouting "ABS! ABS!" every ten seconds), I wanted to laugh at the fact that because I had chosen a spot in the dead middle, I couldn't see the instructor most of the time, so I was forced to stare at the shaking bums in front of me to find out what was going on, I wanted to laugh at the fact that the instructor, seeing my very-half-hearted non-attempts to do most of the moves for the last 20 minutes (due to my almost pulling a hamstring earlier) seemed to get more and more insistent that we "really push ourselves." But, being a responsible adult who recently pushed out a baby and everything, I managed to hold my giggles (mostly) in and pretend like I was used to making myself look this much like a fool all the time.
Despite all that, when I walked out, I felt AMAZING (even though I'd really only been able to fully participate for all of about 20 minutes).
I'm totally going back next week, with spit-up clothes and all.
2. Raven has started "socially smiling" (which basically means any smile that's not gas-related). Her first real smile that I knew was because of me and not because she'd just pooped was yesterday morning first thing when I brought her out of her bed to feed her--she looked up at me and gave me the biggest grin, eye crinkles and all. Even though I was initially feeling pretty grumpy and groggy because I'd hoped she'd let me sleep a little longer, that smile sure changed my mood around pretty quick.
Maybe someday I'll even get it on camera (once she gets over the "what-the-heck-is-THAT-thing" face she gives me whenever I try to take a picture).
3. Sometimes when I'm trying to get Raven to take a nap or sleep longer and she's fussing, I army crawl on the ground so she can't see me and try to sneak up her binky to her mouth without her glimpsing my face. Luckily she's young enough not to understand that disembodied hands bearing binkies are really attached to a whole human person because sometimes it actually works.
Apparently this is where the sneakiness begins---pretty soon, you'll find me in the bathtub with the curtain closed (but no water) surreptitiously scooping ice cream into my mouth. It's only a matter of time.
4. When Matt and I first were married (or maybe it even started when we were engaged), we were always trying to suggest books to each other--I would suggest some classic or the latest bestseller or a book I'd read as a kid and couldn't believe he hadn't (like all the works of Roald Dahl and The Giver), and he would suggest fantasy---lots and lots of fantasy. What ended up happening was that he read a lot of the books I suggested (including the unabridged Count of Monte Cristo at well over a thousand pages, Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, and The Fault in Our Stars), and I read the entire Lord of the Rings series, which I'd been planning on reading anyway (since it was on a lot of my reading lists anyway).
Basically, as Matt pointed out so many times, I hadn't REALLY read anything he suggested. So for years, he's threatened that he'd never again read a recommendation of mine until I'd finally given in and read one of his.
Well, I've finally given in, and I'm about halfway through the first book in Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn trilogy. (And even though I would love to say that the book wasn't that great so I could keep on ignoring all these fantasy books being pushed at me, I've gotta say--it's actually pretty darn entertaining.)
I think this means that Matt will finally have to read some Pride and Prejudice here before too long...he he he.
5. Someday (when I leave the house regularly again), I'll take pictures of something other than my baby, but for now, that's basically all you get.
Here's to a happy Memorial Day weekend, which in our case will be full of some long-lost friends, a barbecue or two, and a lot of people fawning over how cute Raven is. It's a good life.
Hope you have a grand Friday!