For the past 4 weeks, I've taken the boys once a week to babysitting at the gym. This is new for us. It's taken me two-and-a-half years to get the courage to drop them off. I tried for the first time about 6 months ago, and although the boys may have been ready for it, I guess I just wasn't.
I know, I know. It's overprotective craziness. I guess that's what happens when you bring 3 one-pounders into this world. Anyway, I'm working on it. Trying to prepare myself for preschool in the fall...
But I digress. So anyway, last week it rained just about every single day. On Thursday I'd had enough of being stuck inside, so when the boys woke up I told them we were going to the "J" (that's the gym) so mommy could exercise. Suffice it to say they were not interested in that plan. But I was determined to work out, and I dragged three angry little boys out of the house. "No J!! No J Mommy!! Go go-see store -- Go li-bary -- go My Gym -- Go Tah-get! No J! Waaaaah! No J!!" It was pouring and about 33 degrees.
It's a pretty good walk (for 2-year-olds who are crying and screaming and refusing to walk) from the parking lot to the gym. And by the time we arrived, it was pouring even harder. Once we parked, I stuffed screaming Zach and Cooper into their (unfortunately) canopy-less stroller, and told screaming Charlie he had to walk. (Triple strollers don't fit through doorways, so we use a double and someone always has to walk). Zach is screaming "No J! New pants!! New pants!" (apparently your pants get wet when it is pouring rain and your stroller has no lid), Cooper can NOT believe we aren't at the li-bary and what the heck happened to his juice ??, and Charlie is having a monster tantrum and is refusing to walk. I pleaded with him for a few minutes, but we were getting soaked (no hands for an umbrella), so I picked him up like a surfboard under one arm (the one that's wasn't carrying a gym bag and a bag full of enough snacks and juice to feed a family of 12) while pushing the wayward stroller with my stomach and one hand. All while trying to look cool, calm and collected. Ha ha ha ha.
I should mention at this point that the parking lot is directly in front of a huge glass wall, on the other side of which is a mass of people on treadmills, stair steppers, and ellipticals looking out at the parking lot. At me, soaking wet (my hood fell off and I didn't have hands to get it back on) and my meltdowning surfboard and the stroller of screams. I thought about smiling and waving to the folks on the recumbant bikes who had front row seats but decided it was probably better not to make eye contact.
So we finally get inside. Another mom coming out of the babysitting room saw me and the boys and said, "Oh wow. It's OK if you want to cry too."
Of course, once I drop the boys off, they're fine. And when I return an hour later, they aren't even that excited to see me. In fact, Charlie wants to stay longer. But Cooper still wants to get to the li-bary. Our next stop, I promise him.