I’m officially a working mom, thus I am officially losing my mind. My only “me” time is now from 5:15-6:30am on weekdays, when I rouse myself and drive to the gym, where I plod on a treadmill, toil on a spinning bike, or lumber on the stepmill before returning home and rousing the family. Today, while cruising at a barely manageable 5.3 mph, I watched the royal wedding with gross fascination: the ceremonial pomp, the portentous gravity, all leading up to the horrible, hilarious moment when the ring would not slide cleanly on Catherine Middleton’s finger, getting caught in her knuckle pudge.
Then I left the gym and was whisked back into existence: bananas, caca, car seats, and trying to convince a 2 year old who can’t understand English not to ride his tricycle in the street. Today A refused to take a nap, so I felt entitled to abuse my Mommy privileges by forcing him to go on a hike in the Middlesex Fells. He spent the entire hike lounging in my Deuter Kid Comfort backpack, the little slacker. Or not so little, I should say, give the ache in my back.
Hike Break
