My Coach

Since the birth of my third boy, I have been pretty disciplined when it comes to exercise. I have never been one who doesn't have to try hard to look her best. I am not petite. I am not "tiny." (Someday, I will do a blog about women's silly habit of calling of each other "tiny." But I digress...) Not that I don't have plenty of room for improvement, especially right after Christmas, but anyone who thinks I don't work hard to be the size I am, forgets that I gave birth to an 11-pounder, a 10-pounder, and a 9+ pounder, and one does not just "bounce back" from that.

I try hard to be healthy and when I feel I look good, I truly feel good and that helps all areas of my life.

That said, I can't always make it to the gym. I do go regularly, but with three boys, sometimes I just can't make it. Fortunately, my husband went ahead and set up a complete home gym for us almost immediately after I paid for a whole year's gym membership. (There was some sarcasm mixed with genuine thankfulness there, in case you missed it...)

Yesterday was one of those days I just couldn't make a gym visit work, so I waited until Jack was napping and took Mitchell down to the basement with me to keep me company. He loves that. Often times, he will do push ups or sit ups or make up his own completely ridiculous exercises that look more like fun than work.

This time though, my workout was actually something he could help with! He had my stop watch and timed me when I needed it. He stood on my feet so I could do sit-ups and yelled "punch me!" or "tickle me!" or "grab my elbow!" every time I sat up. He counted all my sets for me. He kept shouting, "Faster, mom! Faster! Time's almost up!"

He often gets in my way down there, especially when he wants to help or have a turn with the squat rack, but I have to say, yesterday, he was awesome! My favorite part was right at the end, after the timer went off and I was done. We were putting things away and he high-fived me and said, "What's gonna work, mom? Teamwork!"

Mom and Dad the Spies

As we have had the pleasure of having our house full of family for the holidays, Matt and I decided to take advantage of them a couple days ago and go for a run together rather than taking turns.

After changing into some running duds, we came downstairs in our semi-matching outfits of black spandex and black tops and black hats, Ben took one look at us and said, "Hey! You guys match! You're wearing the same thing! Hah!" I felt a tad foolish after this so I said, "Yeah, you're right, we do match. It's a little lame." Ben responded by saying, "No way! You look like spies!"

I love that kid...

I Knew It!

Jack confirmed one of my fears this morning as I attempted to do a little workout in my living room.  

Matt had my car today and the weather was too cold and snowy to walk to the gym, so I improvised at home.  Now since I no longer have a chunk of my day to myself at home due to different school schedules and only one napper, I had to do this while Jack was up and ready to play.

It began fairly well; I wasn't going to go too crazy in my living room and I didn't anticipate it taking more than 20 minutes or so, so I got Jack some Cheerios and a cup of milk and set him up in the corner of my living room with some of his favorite books, hoping he'd basically ignore me.

Well, it just so happens that one of my chosen exercises was one of the most ridiculous ones as well - one I usually skip at the gym, sure that everyone around me is watching and either wondering what in the world I am up to or outright laughing at me.  It only took one of these to get Jack's full attention and he burst out laughing at me!  I knew I looked silly!  I just knew it!  

It was all over from there.  I managed to actually finish my workout, but he laughed at me the whole time.  He was so entertained, in fact, that he did the unheard of - left his snack unfinished - and tried to join in, laughing all along the way.  I don't know how Matt does push-ups with all three boys on his back.  I can hardly do it with Jack, but he insisted I try!  Leg lifts are impossible with a 30 lb baby sitting on your legs, and I he stood directly in front of me while I did my squats, kissing me (or slobbering on me, whichever way you want to look at it) each time I came down to his level.  

I did manage to get everything done and it was pretty fun to hear so much laughing from him, even if it was at my expense.  All the same though, I think I prefer going to the gym.

Not Your Usual Chore

Occasionally, we have to mix up our reward system with the boys; we change the reward, we change the chores or behaviors to be rewarded, that sort of thing.  Doing one system for too long looses its effectiveness for us.  It gets old and ignored and I, more than the rest of them, loose interest and momentum.  

A good change is needed every once in a while.  

I just discovered a new system that I love, and have spent part of my afternoon deciding what behaviors and chores and actions I want to put on them this time around.  I had my top 5 or 6 picked out before I asked Matt for his input.  He thought about it for a second or two and said, "Exercise for sure!"  Really?  You think we need to reward them for exercising?  Their whole day is exercising of some sort!  They never sit still!  They run to the bathroom, they jump on the couch cushions!  The do flips onto their giant beanbag chair and try to roll it over each other before jumping on top!  They sit on and race their big Tonkas up and down the hallways, narrowly escaping the certain injury that would result if they were a couple inches off and rolled right down the stairs!  They tromp in the snow, choosing the "high snow" over the sidewalks on the way to school.  

When I reminded Matt of this, he rolled his eyes and said, "No, real exercise!  Not playing!"  So, in an attempt to actually take his opinions seriously, I have added "exercise" as a category to be rewarded in my kids.  Hey, who says behavior charts can't have some fun too?  It's time to resurrect The Exercise Game, I think!

They have already earned their stars for exercise today, by the way.  I took them out to play in the softly falling snow and made them pull each other up and down the soccer field in the sled.  They had a fabulous time pulling and dumping each other, crashing into things and getting tangled in the rope.  Ben reminded me that this just had to be exercise because he was so sweaty and because it is just like Daddy when he pulls them around on his weight sled!  Yes, Matt has a weight sled that he pulls children around on the soccer field, getting plenty of evil eyes from mothers and nannies.  I'm not sure what they take exception to more, the fact that he is putting children on his sled and pulling them quite fast, or the fact that he is wearing spandex from head to toe...

Feats of Strength

A friend of mine recently asked me how we exhaust our boys' energy now that it is too cold to run around outside.  We invent Feats of Strength for them, of course!  It could be indoor Olympics, the exercise game, rearranging couch cushions, or sometimes, it could involve lifting a giant, 50lb beanbag chair up onto a bed!

Is this a normal activity for a dad to encourage his kids to do, or is my husband a bit... well, either unique or just plain out of ideas?

Trading Flab For Scab

Ew... Just writing the title to this blog makes me cringe a bit.  The word "scab" is just one of those gross-sounding words - to me, at least.  What is to like about a scab, other than that it means your body is healing itself?  Ok, that is a pretty good positive aspect of a scab, but I mean other than that, of course!  They are ugly, they itch, they beg to be picked off, and even if you don't pick it off, it often gets scraped off on accident.

Well, apparently, we don't all feel the same way about wounds and the scabs that follow.  As I was shaving my legs last night and having to maneuver yet again around the giant scabs running up my shins, I cursed my husband for the workouts that cause such ugliness.  Every time a scrape is finally healing up and the nasty scab is gone, he writes into my schedule more dead lifts and SCRAPE!  Off goes a chunk of skin on the front of my leg again!  

When I complain to him about this, reminding him that the point of doing this exercise in the first place is to have better looking legs, not uglier legs, he checks out the scrape and just says, "Looks good to me!"  When I ask him to clarify, he says something about how sexy these scrapes/scabs (and the scars that are surely forming) are because anyone who knows anything will see them and know that I am "seriously working out now" instead of messing around with some cardio (and really, according to him, I might as well just officially not try if that is going to be my only work-out anyways.)  

Apparently, these scrapes mean I have good form or something?  To me, trading flab for scab isn't quite what I had in mind.  Can't we come up with an equally effective exercise that spares my skin and doesn't leave me scarred?

The Exercise Game

Matt and the boys have started a new nightly routine: they call it "The Exercise Game." It's a "dude thing," which means no moms allowed, but I was privileged to get to observe tonight. I don't laugh out loud very often, so this was quite a treat for me!

The rules are pretty simple: draw a card from a deck and whatever number you get, that is the number of times you perform an exercise of your choice. Matt, Ben, and Mitchell take turns drawing cards and coming up with an exercise for them all to do.

Tonight, they did 21 different exercises. Don't think young boys can come up with that many different types of exercise? Well, they began with some normal sounding ones such as squats, leg-lifts, push-ups, and lunges, but then started getting a bit more creative. Ben's turns resulted in exercises named dinosaur leg lifts and pooping dogs, but at least the activity to go with them closely resembled a more traditional type of exercise.

Mitchell's turns got funnier and funnier (to me at least. The guys were all taking them quite seriously.) He invented exercises with names like breeps, proos, bleems, and blaxopes; and the corresponding actions to go with these names were even funnier. There were spin moves and jumps and kicks and flexing, always with claw-like fingers and sound effects. He'd draw his number card, invent his exercise, demonstrate it to the other two, and around the living room they'd go - mimicking Mitchell's every move, as if it was a perfectly normal exercise routine. It was hilarious!

The nightly exercise game is always followed by a glass of milk (to help the muscles grow, doncha know) and some good "dude talk." Oh, it was an entertaining evening.

Squishy Mommy

Ben and Mitchell are all about the muscles these days.  Ben loves to show off to daddy how he can lift weights over his head, do squats and push-ups, punch hard, and run really fast.  Mitchell also loves to show off his moves, but his are a bit more...creative in nature.  He comes up with original excercises like hopping on one foot till he crashes into something, spinning around really fast until he gets dizzy, jumping off the bed, lifting Jack a couple inches off the floor, sitting and standing over and over again...that sort of thing.  They love to flex their little arms and say "feel my muscles, mommy!"  Every time they eat meat, they tell me how big their muscles are getting from all the protein.  

It is so fun to see them mirroring their daddy and "working out" with him.  I love that they want to be like him, and what is important to him is important to them (to a much lesser extent, of course.)  

The downside to all this is that I get compared to daddy in the whole muscle department!  That hardly seems fair given I am a woman and have had three very large babies.  I can't possibly be expected to keep up with Matt in this area!  Mitchell wanted to feel my muscles today and when I flexed for him, he squeezed my arm and gave me a look that said "No, come on - flex!"  He looked a little doubtful that I was even flexing at all.  Once when he snuggled up to me, he laid down on my tummy and said, "You have a squishy tummy, mommy."  Ah, well, honesty is to be encouraged, I suppose :)

Soccer: Part 2

Well, our second attempt to get Mitchell to play soccer was a bit more successful - just a bit.  We began by not requiring him to wear his uniform, and then got there a bit early and let Ben run around with Mitchell on his field before classes started so that he could get him a bit more excited about it.  So far, so good.  Mitchell was running, kicking, jumping around, making a goal or two, and actually smiling!  With high hopes for the actual class, we took Ben over to his own field, where he quickly joined in with the other kids.  

Left on his own without his own little coach to keep him moving, he sort of...lost his energy.  He forgot all the "cool moves" he was talking about showing the other kids, and how he was going to be "fast like Ben" and just kind of did his own thing out there.  On the positive side, he didn't cry at all, and he didn't require one of us to actually drag him around.  By the end of the hour, he was actually beginning to listen and follow directions and actually run and kick a bit.  Who would have thought a little boy would need encouragement to run and jump and kick!  But I am encouraged by his progress and think in another week or two, he will be having just as much fun as Ben out there.  

After practice, Ben quickly downed his entire water bottle and wanted me to feel how sweaty he was from all his exercise.  As we were walking out to the car, he grabbed Mitchell's hand and asked him how he did this time and if he had fun and remembered to be the fastest and be a good listener.  They walked to the car together this way, deep in conversation about how proud Ben was of Mitchell and how excited they were for the promised ice-cream cones.