Gotta Get My Groove Back

I have a specific routine in the morning. Before I had Josiah, I would wake up every day at 6am. I would shower, then make myself some coffee, make the breakfast, then wake Isaiah. Josiah has interfered with my leisurely system. Now, I wake at 5am on the dot--even on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays when I don't start until 10am. You see, the problem with having two children is that "mommy work" requires twice the time the first one did. True, they start to entertain eachother when Thing Two rounds 3 months. They smile and laugh and participate with eachother. Isaiah is an entire five years older than his peeing and pooping little brother and it makes my life a little easier. I use Isaiah to fetch things and to play peek a boo while I put a load of laundry in. (There is at least 4x the amount of laundry there was before.)

Anyhoo, in the midst of all of the morning chaos, there is that one stickler--GETTING MYSELF READY. I am a confident woman. I am smart and funny and I can hold a decent conversation. I am beautiful and I think I look good, until I put my glasses on. Now, some mothers, mothers like Sarah Jessica Parker or Angelina Jolie, probably get out of bed much later and still look red-carpet ready. I am not one of those mothers. I am the mother that has a huge cup of coffee in the morning, blow dries quickly, and rubs tinted moisturizer on her face. I do my eyebrows one a month and I pluck them one time a week--if I am very lucky. Since having Josiah, I have shaved my legs twice. It is winter time, but that is no excuse. I am not a man. I should not have hair like one.

It being the new year, I thought I'd make some resolutions. Here they are:

1. Shave your legs at least once a month. Do yourself, and your poor husband, a favor and pull out that old Venus Razor. Dust it off. Buy some smelly shaving creme. Rub it on and get to work.
2. Get out of your granny panties. You are a mother not a granny. Get on it so that Robert will get on you.
3. Get to the gym. Climb those stairs. Work that ass.

Day one. I think I did pretty good. I shaved my legs and I put on a thong. I didn't make it to the gym, but I think that my c-section incision has more to do with it than anything else. That being said, it is time to get back to LA Fitness. I should probably run there because my body is big and I hate it and cardio is the only way to shed that extra weight from the baby. It is true, the second baby's weight is harder to lose than the first. What the hell. My stomach resembles a deflated balloon and my ass is unmentionable.

The gym, though my love for it is real and strong, seems distant. I can't take Josiah to the gym yet. I am very afraid of the H1N1. I hate germs in general and I have enough hand sanitizer to get the Jolly Green Giant drunk, but I can't take my baby there. Children are disgusting and they are experts at sharing their germs. Gross. So, my plan, I always have a plan, is to wait for Robert to come home so that I can sneak away and sweat my ass off on the treadmill. Wish me luck.

But today, I am happy. I fit my pre-2nd-baby thongs and though my ass looks saggy in them my heart is rejoicing. Alicia is under there--somewhere. It gives me hope that I will soon be in stilettos and tight jeans. My husband, though he still can't take his hands off me, will attack my body with as much passion as a teenager, or we will at least sleep deeper because my body doesn't take up so much of the bed.