Wednesday, March 15, 2006

The Crying Game

My son cries at the drop of a hat these days. He cries if he's hungry. He cries if he's full. He cries if he's wet and then he cries when I change his diaper. Maybe it's something to do with being 18 months old (tough age, that) but I don't remember my girls being so whiny. He's not ill. His mommy switch is just permanently set to 'on' and - honestly - I'm going a little bonkers because his crying is messing with my well-being.

With both of my girls, I was back in pre-pregnancy form in no time flat thanks to the childcare provided by my gym. With, Bubba...let's just say I'm still hanging on to the baby weight because he screams bloody murder if I even think about leaving him in the nursery. The people are so nice and they are all moms like me. There are tons of toys to play with and, oftentimes, his big sister stays in the same area with him and keeps him company. Still, he clings tightly to me when I sign him in, when I take off his coat and - most of all - when I try to leave. Not just normal kid crying. Full. On. Screaming. Really, it's a tantrum because he knows I'm leaving and he doesn't want me to go. It takes all my strength to turn away from him and leave him in the nursery. I feel guilty for leaving him but I feel depressed because of the baby fat I'm carrying. So, it ultimately comes down to choosing what's best for me over his present need. And it stinks and I feel bad and I covertly check on him at least twice during my workout because if he saw me the tears and screaming would start anew. He is always fine and playing and happy. So, why do I feel so guilty? I need to workout to stay on an even keel. A fit mommy is a happy mommy but I hate that it causes him so much angst.

I am with him all day so those ninety minutes I get to myself to read a magazine and watch Food Network while working up a sweat are a sweet reprieve. I could exercise at home but that doesn't work out so great (I should be working out now because he's napping) because I don't have a gazillion dollars to spend on the latest gym equipment. So, I'll keep trekking to the Y and hope that one day my little guy and I can negotiate a gym peace treaty.

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