Yesterday we had a lovely time at Mead Open Farm, the weather was great, the goats made us giggle and Millie stroked enough bunnies to keep her tickle-o-meter on maximum for the next six months at least. It was a great final weekend to the summer holidays and I wish it could have lasted forever.
And Gabriele has learnt how to roll onto his front from his back which is adorable to see as he pings his legs up into the air and rocks himself over. It brings it into perspective that our baby boy is growing up so fast and already that little bit more mobile instead of laying down and smiling. It won’t be long before he’s running around and we can’t wait.
Gabriele Mastering Rolling Onto His Front At 18 Weeks
So today we had a few errands to run, some shopping to do, cooking some food, oh, and SIGN UP FOR MY NEW GYM MEMBERSHIP seeing as I am now de-bumped and in need of some serious toning and trimming. So walking around the sports shop with Luca was interesting to say the least and I felt well and truly initiated into the world of men! The racks of trainers floor to ceiling, sports bras, spandex and sports cups had me laughing through such a range of choice and colours and everyone in there seemed so serious about the ability of the products.
It seems a meticulous decision choosing sportswear for the gym, almost more so than the actual working out itself; is it a fashion show or a sweat off? On one hand you want to be comfortable when working up a sweat, so you want to wear something movable and sweat proof but at the same time you don’t want your builders bottom and cleavage making a bid for freedom, nor a massive sweat patch running down the middle of your back. And on the other hand you don’t want to look like a panting sweating pig in a bin bag.
So, after much deliberation I settled upon running wear, some black spandex three-quarter lengths, a sports bra, a black racer top and some grey and yellow Nikes and I was slightly proud of my ensemble, even if I do say so myself. I tried it on when we got home and just wiggling and squishing into it wore me out! And walking out of the bedroom in my new power wear with my hair slicked back into a ponytail and a spring in my step I was greeted by our lovely Millie who accusingly said “Mummy, why are you dressed like a boy?” And I laughed and looked in the mirror “No Millie, I’m not a boy… I’m a bug!” My ears stuck out, my head looked like a peanut and my thighs looked like two shrink-wrapped pork sausages. Hmm… well at least I wouldn’t see anybody I knew! I wondered if I should retouch my makeup that I’d put on first thing in the morning when we went out, which was already plain with just a dash of foundation and eyeliner and half had already been licked off by Gabriele and the rest rubbed off from blowing raspberries on Millie, but the idea of looking like cocoa the clown on a running machine seemed worse than staying au natural so I decided against a quick touch up and instead headed to the gym. HA! The gym! I go to a gym, for the first time in God knows how long.
Dressed As A Boy For The Gym
And as soon as I walked through the door immediately I reached for my invisible makeup bag as the receptionist said, “If you can just stand over here I’ll take your picture.” Nooooooooo! Why does this always happen? My bug head from slicking my hair back and my dark circles from ridiculous sleepless nights and signs of a spot breaking out on my chin are all very good reasons to run right back out of the door again and pretend it never happened, even if I was dressed in head to toe cling film and trainers.
So sucking up my pride I gave my best weary ‘I’m so not comfortable with this’ smile for the camera, signed the contract, and had a few health checks and then I was free! Free to go and play in the jungle of massive machines and digital clocks, like a child in a play centre, only I didn’t have my mum with me. So feeling rather proud of myself for losing £165.00 already, I was hoping to lose a couple more on the running machine and make my first evening an eventful one.
As I stepped onto the belt of the running machine I was actually grinning at the thought of being able to work out with other adults in a gym without being asked for sausages, cheese, a choccie milk or to change a nappy in between. And as I started running alongside two actual men who were quite serious and in ‘the zone’ listening to their i-pods and breathing deeply I just grinned like a cheshire cat. I didn’t have any music with me as I’m not yet gym-savvy so instead I read along with the subtitles for the news on the screen in front of me – the news, gym and adults all in one evening! Check me out! Take a hike Macca Pakka, see ya later Justin and your house and ta-ra Rastamouse!
So there I was on my running machine getting into the swing of things, pony tail swooshing, trainers creaking with each leap, and the occasional sip of water from my sports bottle as I caught up on the world news 🙂 and then I noticed something; the way gymmers check out each others stats on the machines, much like how I would imagine men secretly looking at each others manhood in a public urinal and comparing secret notes in their head, I caught a few sneaky glimpses of the gymmers clocking each others machines. Ooh, how fast is he running? What’s their resistance? Well I’ve been on three minutes longer! It’s actually brilliant and a little bit addictive. And when you up the speed of the machine it lets off a high pitched beep to reward you, similar to that of the microwave which at first made me think of papadums, but then made me enthusiastic to push the button again and make the machine go even faster. It seems the noise is so high pitched that just like a dog whistle as soon as it’s sounded all of the gymmers glance over to acknowledge this challenging difference and then shortly after they follow suit so as not to be outdone.
So running alongside my fellow adult gymmer, I saw his speed was on 5.8 of which I have no clue of the value or units, but I beeped my button up and matched him for speed, which seemed quit easy. Deciding to overtake him a few minutes later I beep up to 6.2 and noticed a sly glance from his direction and the starting of a frown as he beeped up just past me. Well I couldn’t have that, so I beeped up to 6.6 with a grin fixed firmly on my face and my toes feeling like somebody was moving them for me. And he beeped and then I beeped, and he beeped and I still beeped and I couldn’t help thinking if we were not on treadmills and perhaps in a park or out on a pavement this kind of behaviour would look very strange and/or threatening, but in a gym it’s perfectly normal and we both ran away from each other on the spot dripping in sweat and looking out of the side of our eyes so as not to give our position away. And it was great, running machine chase kept me going for fifteen minutes before I realised my legs were almost numb and my fringe had sweated itself to my brow!
After that I moved onto the cross trainer for another quarter of an hour and realised as I was that little bit further back from the screen my short-sightedness meant I could no longer read the subtitles on the news so instead I imagined what the people on the screen might be saying and occasionally glanced around at the other gymmers and their routines making a mental note for next time. It did cross my mind that the people using the machines behind me must surely see my rear end bouncing and shaking in their face, and I have to admit I did wonder what underwear I had on and wether or not I would display a full on cheek shaking or a restrained jelly wobble like the Churchill nodding dog.
And when I got home I felt brilliant, full of energy and pumped up. I put the children to bed, drank some water and tried my hardest to resist biscuits. I’m a changed woman! Let’s hope I go more than just once. 🙂
And now a look at Gabriele’s sleep and feeding routine at night for this past week. As you can see he’s been a bit of a cheeky monkey and thrown any pattern or schedule out of the window in favour of torturing me whenever he sees fit instead. But I can’t complain, I love his midnight cuddles and sleepy coo’s, and even though it makes me feel like the undead in the morning I’d gladly give him my all just for a second of his love.
Baby Gabriele’s Night time Routine Week 17
So Millie starts her new primary school in three days and I’m trying to prepare her for life as a big girl, we got her lunch box goodies today so I might have a dry run tomorrow and sit her down for an hour and see if she can actually manage to eat her way through her lunchbox in the allotted time given. In a way I’m already thinking the children might be a little bit like my fellow gymmers and when they open their lunch boxes in unison the looks will fly around the table for the contents of the day; ooh she has squeezy yoghurt, he’s got cheddar sticks, who do they think they are bringing organic grapes!? Oh I can’t wait. 🙂
