Urban Mama

New Sneakers, New Start

I actually started working out last week. After 8 weeks of paid membership, I finally got off my lazy butt and dragged myself to the gym on Tuesday. The baby is a year old now, so I figured my little mellow boy could handle an hour or so in the child care room.

Too late for the morning step class, I decided to try the cardio area. I had no exercise plan, so I did a five-minute warm up on an elliptical machine and then 40 minutes on a stationary bike. It wasn't the most inspired work out (I didn't even have my pod), but it got my heart-rate going at least.

Wednesday morning I was sore, but I was determined to try again. I found my Shuffle, clipped it to my sports bra, and drove straight from the Schmoopette's preschool drop-off back to the gym. This time I did the reverse of the day before -- five minutes on the bike and 40 on the elliptical. What a difference. It was a sweatier, more satisfying session.

Thursday afternoon, the Schmoop's soccer practice was canceled, so I packed up all three kids and headed back to the gym. When I got there, I met a fit woman in the locker room who encouraged me to take the spinning class that was about to start. I followed her into the cycling room and was instantly intimidated. Everyone in the class was perfectly conditioned already. But as it turned out, unlike in an aerobics class, where a wrong step is rather obvious, spinning is an individual effort. Aside from the occasional choir of grunts, everyone is too focused on their own bike to pay attention to anyone else.

After the exhausting class, I realized my four-year-old Salomon trail runners just aren't up to the task any more. I ordered some New Balance sneakers and received them the following day. They're comfortable, supportive and ready for business. I can't wait to put them to the test tomorrow.

I know one week of regular exercise isn't something to brag about for most people, but for me, it's a huge accomplishment. Since my mother's death, I haven't wanted to do much of anything, let alone work out. But it's something I have to do. I have to get to a healthy weight, and these New Balances are a big part of my new-found motivation.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start

L

Like every one else this week, I was blown away after seeing the trailer for Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers' adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are. I can't wait to see it and hope its as good as all of us hope.

The classic Maurice Sendak book was not only a personal childhood favorite, but it's a tale I've read aloud to my children countless times. I have vivid memories of my mother reading it to my eldest son (but with her adorable Spanish accent) in our old Brooklyn apartment. She always said "ROOM-puss," and now when I see that word in the story, I have to fight the inclination to say it that way too.

I'd say of my three kids (so far, anyhow), my daughter is the real Wild Thing, although her older brother has his moments. Some days it's incredibly frustrating to parent a mischief-making Wild Thing, and I can sincerely empathize with Max's mom (although I've yet to send my children to bed without dinner).

Most other days, it's amazing to have such a spirited, imaginative, fearless energy in the house. She can create a whole universe out of the fingers on her hand (she's the ring finger, her baby brother's the thumb, her big brother the middle finger, etc.) She's a force of nature this kid, and as a close friend once said, she's got a fire in her.

Now that I've got my own Wild Things, Max's adventure reminds me of not only of my childhood and my mother, but of my children as well. Any book that can do that is pretty amazing, and it deserves an amazing adaptation. I'm keeping fingers crossed that Jonze does not disappoint.