I officially hate myself for the title of this blog post. Because I know everyone in my reading audience is now stuck with that damnably catchy song in their heads.
But, this morning LO and I trooped off to the local Y. Swimming class for me and daycare for LO. I used to go to this class--officially it's called water exercise, a low impact resistance/aerobic workout--several days a week during the summer. I made friends with the ladies who swim, and I found myself looking forward to my daily(ish) dip. After several weeks of swimming, I actually discovered that the smell of heavy chlorine really improves my mood.
I haven't been to class since LO has been born, for several obvious reasons. Now that he is eight weeks old, he is eligible for the daycare that is available, and I am champing at the bit to get back to working out. However, going to swim class is not nearly the carefree phenomenon it once was. Before LO, I had to make sure that I had my purse, gym bag, two towels, maternity bathing suit, flip flops, hair rubber band, brush, shampoo, conditioner, soap, moisturizer, underwear, change of clothes, makeup, and check book, just in case. Now, in addition to all that, I am also toting LO and all of his stuff. (Why is it that all baby accessories are sold separately? He's worse than Barbie! Even she comes with ONE outfit when you first acquire her.) And, all of his stuff must be labeled.
So, this morning I was up at 5:30ish, as usual, to give LO his early breakfast. (He usually also has breakfast and late breakfast most mornings, although late breakfast might technically be brunch.) After he had fallen back to sleep post meal (is there tryptophan in breast milk?), I got started. I had to organize and label everything in the diaper bag. I had to gather together all my gym bag stuff. I had to figure out if I was ready for a pre-pregnancy suit. (No.) I was able to get my own and J's breakfast on the table, LO in his car seat, bags--both diaper and gym--organized and in the car, and myself and baby on the road to the Y by 7:23. Considering I'd wanted to leave at 7:15, and LO was due at the daycare at 7:30, I thought I was doing phenomenally well.
Then I realized I had forgotten to brush my teeth.
I dropped the baby off, making sure to keep my distance from anyone who might notice the flames of nasty breath shooting from my mouth. I got changed and got in the water, with only slight pangs about leaving my LO with strange people. I was in the same building, and surely I would have heard if the Y daycare had made a habit of suction-cupping children to walls to keep them immobile while the daycare workers went for a coffee break.
It was wonderful seeing my swimming friends again. It felt good to work out. I got to talk about LO with people who knew him when he was just a gleam in my belly. I didn't worry, exactly, but I was excited to see him again after our 90 minute separation.
LO, for his part, took it all in stride. He was awake but drowsy when I dropped him off. He did not seem to care that I was leaving him, although he might have just been avoiding my breath. He was asleep when I picked him up.
I've signed up for this class twice a week for the next session. I just hope I'll be able to continue getting out the door more or less on time. I do wonder, however, what I'll forget next time. Knowing me, it will either be deodorant or a bra or my swimsuit itself. As long as I never forget the baby or his diaper bag, I think it'll be okay that I go swimming stark naked with stinky armpits.