A Stay-at-Home-Mom

Now that I am a stay-at-home mum, my excuse of “No time” shouldn’t hold any more.

Yeah, but life just got busier (as if that was possible).

But more than me, it is my loving daughters who are puzzled (as opposed to thrilled :( ).

And I really wonder why, when they have a loving mom at home, ready to give them all the time in the world.

Who is ready with healthy stuff whenever they are hungry (Yuck!).

The kind of mother they always envied-you know the ones who keep their homes sparkling. (Nooooo, you can’t fine me for the messy cupboard, you asked me only to clean the room)

A mom eager to play Badminton with them (Hey, we can’t count playing with you as free time).

 A mother ready to guide them with their studies (No, You can’t open my school bag without permission. It’s Private).

A mother ready to talk whenever they want to..(That’s Ok, but I still need to talk to my friend whom I play with everyday, and who lives just a floor below, for 20 mins on the phone).

Someone who is ALWAYS there for them…(OH GOD!  So what happens to internet time…)

Is it already too late, I wondered. 
Did I make a mistake..

And then Aurora piped in:

That’s just not fair. (the favorite phrase of the moment). You send us to school and then you can read books, watch TV, go back to sleep..

I wan’t to be a stay at home kid too!

I should be heartbroken at their response. The wicked Loverna in me is actually relishing every moment of it.

The mother in me is glad to be there for them…..no matter how they feel about it.

Another Gym, Another Woman

I could not go to the Gym yesterday as I had some urgent work to finish. And well today is Saturday, and tomorrow is Sunday…


And then I remembered the story of an unknown woman so like me, which had come in an email forwarded many times over:


Dear Diary,


For my birthday this year, I purchased a week of personal training at the local health club. Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.


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MONDAY:


Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god-- with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!


Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines.. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!


Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around.


This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!


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TUESDAY:


I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It's a whole new life for me.


_______________________________


WEDNESDAY:


The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.


Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.


My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other shit too.


_______________________________


THURSDAY:


A****** was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late-- it took me that long to tie my shoes.


He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny b**** to find me.


Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine-- which I sank.


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FRIDAY:


I hate that bastard Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.


Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.


The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?


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SATURDAY:


Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.


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SUNDAY:


I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

Gym Update

I resolved not to be too put off by the PT, and crawled with my aching muscles, into that attic full of monstrosities again. 


They have out up a new height v/s weight chart. According to this one, I am just 6 (and not 11) kg.s overweight. 


I like this room a lot better now.

My Gym Diary

I celebrated my day at home by finally visiting the gym. My gym diary actually starts six..or eight..or maybe ten months ago.

I walked in to this room full of contraptions and found only one which looked familiar—the weighing machine. Looking just as diligent as all other inhabitants of that planet full of huffing-aliens, sweating profusely on swooshing machines, I too clambered on to this one.

The numbers proved I just did not belong and I walked out, promising to visit every day, starting next week.

Some weeks (just about 10 or 12 of them) later, I walked in more resolutely, did a few rounds on the weighing machine and told the trainer I was ready to sign on—from next month (well it was only 2 weeks away).

A few more weeks later-I asked the trainer if I could start from the beginning of the next month. (See-I am persistent.)

“Ma’am, we’ll start your month from the day you join. (Gosh-after Julius Ceasar and Augustus, now the calendar moves around for ME!!) You can start today.”
“Oh, well, but…My kids will be home soon (Today is too soon, Come on..I am a busy mother). I’ll start on Monday.”

After a lot of Mondays, the trainer assures me: “Ma’am, please try the program for a week or two. You can pay after you decide to continue” (Someone more persistent than me?)

OK. Done.

I booked the slot for the next day and left, determined not to let him down again. (Yes, I was feeling duty-bound to join)

At the appointed hour, I was rushing Elena to the hospital to get her chin stitched up.

I didn’t get the time to try out that one familiar machine for months. Today, I finally went and told him I was ready to take the plunge.

And I felt so let down when he made me do only a few exercises (quite like the disgusting P.T. in school) and said I wouldn’t be ready to take a flight on those swashbuckling spaceships for atleast a week.

I am not sure I want to go back tomorrow.