I know why I'm dragging around these days (not ragging, dragging). It's because I haven't exercised, really exercised, in months. I've done some yoga here and there, lifted Sophie up and into the car and onto her bed countless times and run around like a chicken with her head cut off on various errands, but I haven't really broken a good sweat in ages. I know this is bad, terrible for me. I feel it in my knees, in the added weight on the scale, in my levels of equanimity and irritability.
And I'm going to start. Soon.
In the meantime, I dragged myself around Hollywood with my boys and my niece and the babysitter's son. My niece is visiting from out-of-town and Henry suggested that we go to Ripley's Believe it or Not museum. I've put him off on this expedition for what seems like years. I've even bought him the book with hope that it would suffice. It hasn't so I caved today, and off we headed to the heart of Hollywood.
On the drive over I wondered if ten going on eleven years makes one particularly chatty. Henry is very loquacious these days and always cheerful. Conversations are a bit one-sided and go along the lines of this:
Mom, are motorcycle helmets mandatory?
Yes.
Even in Wisconsin?
I'm not sure, but I think so.
If you could drive a motorcycle would you? Because I think I would get one. Maybe a red one. And maybe I could drive you, too. Do you think I could get one one day?
MMMM...not sure about that.
And so on and so forth. I'm exhausted just recounting it, actually (and you must be bored out of your mind if you've gotten this far). It's unlike the mindless chatter of a toddler where mmmming and nodding seem to suffice. Where you can basically say just about anything to appease and distract. You can pretend to be listening even when you're dragging.
But not today. The chatter went on and on, all the way to Ripley's and it was all so incredibly CHEERFUL. Every now and then I wanted to shout SHUT UP FOR A SECOND, PLEASE! And then I felt terrible, like a horrible, no-good mother. The poor kid was so excited to finally be going to Ripley's and his enthusiasm on any other day would be a beautiful thing.
To make a long story short, we got to Ripley's and the boys HATED it. It was SCARY, gruesomely so, and as I ushered them through the rooms displaying various forms of torture and bloody accidents that people had survived BELIEVE IT OR NOT, I kept saying, Turn your heads, cover your eyes, don't look!
And the whole cheesy outfit cost me almost $50.
On the ride home, Henry asked very cheerily are we going to Universal Studios later this week?
wow, ive never been to ripley's during my california trips. thats good to know its creepy/scary/cheesey. wont waste my money :) ahhhh kids. they're so darn TALKATIVE arent they? my 3 and 5 year old never shut their pie holes. its like, literally non-stop. i feel your pain ... :)
ReplyDeleteThere's a Ripley's in St. Augustine, Florida, too and believe it or not! my kids love it. And loved it when they were younger. Maybe it doesn't have so much gore.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, I so remember those days when the kids were in the back seat, happy, happy, happy and instead of being so glad that they were happy I wanted to say, "Shut up! Please! One moment of silence!" and feeling so guilty.
It's normal.
Summertime and school's out. I've been feeling the claustrophobia too. It's an auditory thing. I enjoy getting out for a long walk (alone) just so I can hear myself think.
ReplyDeleteI love how honest you are...very few people are this honest about the difficulties of daily life in parenting, but truly, along with its profound blessings, it can also be (one of my favorite terms) mind-numbing!
ReplyDeleteFrom my spot (here on the yellow couch), I hear in his words that he is looking to you as his safety, his unconditionally-interested audience, his dictionary, encyclopedia, encourager and biggest fan. I love the security with which he addresses his stream of consciousness to you, and yet I can relate to the numbness that happens after being hit with the verbal ping-pong ball over and over again...but it is precious, and it most likely won't last forever. Wishing you great patience, endurance and enjoyment of his brightness and optimism...heaven knows, we need it in this world!
I must be 11 eternally. That's how my mind works--lol.
ReplyDeleteDo you need a helmet, even in Wisconsin? That's priceless. So great you're recording it, even if it's annoying right now.
Wow--Universal. No chance they like gardens, huh?
I would probably love Ripley's.
ReplyDeleteI could *so* relate to this post. I have a 4 year old who never_stops_talking. By 3 pm., I'm just DONE. I get snippy, then I feel like a jerk, then I just want a drink. Can't wait for school to start up again!!!!
Let me know when you figure out how to make the exercise happen. I keep promising myself I'll do it, but I don't, and then I just beat myself up about it day after day after day. I'm sure I'd be happier and more patient.
ReplyDeleteRuby's constant chatter and whining (Mamaaaaaaaa!)along with Oscar's incessant "when" questions are making me crazy. Cannot think straight with those two around.
HA! Love how this was all punctuated. What a kid.
ReplyDeleteIt's hard to keep up with all of their energy sometimes, isn't it? And every time here, I get a MOM, first. That's about six hundred MOMS a day, give or take. Ugh. And smile.
1. I'm with you in spirit on the work-outs.
ReplyDelete2. That stinks that Ripley's is all about the gore.
3. I can completely picture that happy, bouncy, question-filled car ride. You need to write for a sitcom.
Edith (9 going on 10) now wants me to "ballet" park at camp and just let her walk in on her own.
ReplyDeleteShe would definitely be interested in which states do or do not require helmets.
Do yoga. All else is wasted on us.