Sesame Street on Instant Demand. What bliss this setting is when I go over to my mom's for a visit and I need my boys occupied. Our decision to not own a TV makes Bella's house all the more magnificent thanks to their enormous flat screen television that is longer than both boys put together. We walked into Bello & Bella's house yesterday for a little Sunday R&R after a quick visit to the beach. The boys were sandy and over heated. I set up an episode of Sesame Street for them and noticed out of the corner of my eye that the episode featured Elmo and exercise. Their eyes were glued to the screen and I could hear the wheels turning in their brains.
Lately, I feel as though I am no longer raising two little boys but rather two small sponges that have an uncanny resemblance to my husband. They soak everything up. Yesterday, they watched Elmo running everywhere, around his house, around the block, around other muppets. They loved it. They soaked it all in. SLUUUURRRRPPP.
They also spent the entire day today running around my kitchen, or as it is now apparently titled, "the race track."
Damn you, Elmo.
Before you rush to Elmo's defense, let me explain my hostility.
I hate exercising---especially running. I'd rather burn calories practicing yoga or gardening. Yes, yes, yes, I know what "they" all say. Those are forms of exercise too! Well, usually people who say things like the above are very interested in exercise, they enjoy promoting it and are likely good at it, so in my present state of pregnancy crankiness I am completely discounting their opinion. Now...where was I? Oh yes. Running.
As I have previously stated: I don't run unless something large/scary/or both is chasing me. I don't jog or even "speed walk." I find the sensation of my heart hammering against my chest as if it were trying to escape quite distasteful. My legs are also shorter than everyone else's and after seven miserable years of physical education during my middle and high school years in which forced group running was always a requirement, I quickly realized that sucking wind and always coming in last place are also things I find distasteful. Our PE teacher had the annoying habit of labeling any girl with her menstrual period "A STAR." These girls were excused from running and allowed to walk around the track at any pace they chose. If anyone had paid attention they would have noticed that I bled three weeks a month for seven years.
My husband, on the other hand, loves running, jogging, and naturally walks fast everywhere. He likes going to the gym to work up a good sweat and even loves to swim laps in our pool. Way to go J. Here's a cookie.
No really, I am happy he finds joy in exercise. Ahem.
Now, here is the reason I damned Elmo a few paragraphs ago. I hate exercise but recognize that it is necessary and very good for you. <----(silent grrrrr overheard). As a mother I need to promote this healthy habit by demonstrating it in my own lifestyle for my children's benefit. The fact that this realization came in the package of a chirpy happy furry red monster that is on some sort of crack mixed with speed made my pregnancy hormones churn in a violent direction.
Thankfully, both boys seem to take after their father in this fascination and love of running and exercising----very good news for their bodies and should make enforcing the lifestyle skill much easier on me. But this is still very bad news for me and my lazy side.
Its easy to parent the kids in areas that I am particularly passionate about. The Bear is very curious about the fact that Mommy reads her Bible every day and takes notes on paper about what she reads. Sometimes he even imitates me, grabbing his children's bible and breezing through it with a thoughtful expression on his face. Both kids have worked alongside me in the garden and they now point out every flower they see throughout the day to me. The Bear even believes that I give flowers their yummy smell. (Slight pause to accommodate "ooo's" and "awww's" from all women reading this. I love it too! He makes me feel like sweaty puffy pregnant version of Snow White every time he holds out a flower and says, "My Mama make it smell beautiful!")
Like I said, sponges that look like my husband.
While I love taking the boys out to work in the garden or play in the backyard, I never run unless one of them is running towards something sharp or poisonous. But Elmo told them to love exercise and Daddy loves to exercise and so they are now watching and waiting to see if Mommy also likes to exercise.
A similar situation happened months ago. I tried getting Cubs to eat, enjoy and love fortified oatmeal. He quickly noticed that he was the only one eating oatmeal. He is no fool. He realized that his brother knows better and his mommy hates that slimy icky congealed mass of breakfast food (I am gagging just thinking about it and not just because I am pregnant). So he threw the bowl on the floor and continued to do so every day until I gave up and quit making healthy oatmeal. He now prefers to eat cereal like his Daddy or strawberry yogurt with fruit like his Mama.
Running is the oatmeal of my current life.
Don't get me wrong. I am not about to go buy a pair of running shoes and start jogging every morning, heaven forbid. The day you read that I purchased a bengal tiger or grizzly bear you may be assured that I plan on setting it loose behind me for the purpose of training myself to run. But this is not the case, I have enough people to feed without tigers and bears living in my backyard and I have not owned a pair of running shoes since my freshman year of college. I own flip flops, high heels I don't get to wear anymore and hiking boots. But I digress.... I was talking about exercise. <-----silent grrrrr.
I am serving up a mini helping of oatmeal (blech!) and "running" with my kids. If I need to take a pause from the blissful domestic activities of my life like gardening, quilting, baking or scraping macaroni off of a high chair to go run around the backyard with my sons, so be it. I will do it. I love them and I want them to love running and love exercise. They won't have "STAR" cycles later on in life to excuse them, so even if they inherit my legs I need to make sure they stay running.
You know I am in love with my children, right? The proof is in this post.
1 comment:
Hahah Elle. They can always come running with Tia Natalie!
Post a Comment