Fe-Fe's World Of Craft, Creations and Kids.: Back to the Gym

Friday 14 September 2007

Back to the Gym

I went back to the gym on Wednesday for the first time since the kids broke up which is about 9 weeks ago now. I'd normally just do the step aerobics class because I always had to get back to pick Ellie up from pre-school but I promised myself that once Ellie went to school full time I would stay and do the second half which is the "Legs, bums and tums" part. It nearly killed me! Yesterday I was aching - today I'm even worse! I can hardly use my left arm which is not good! If you'd seen me in the shower this morning trying to wash my hair you'd have been laughing your socks off. I had to bend over double as I just couldn't lift my arm high enough to reach my head - Ouch!

I also found out on Wednesday that my aerobics instructor is going back to college on a Monday morning and so will only be doing the Wednesday class from now on. I'm mortified! Berties' classes are great. He's a Salsa dancer and incorporates a lot of Salsa moves into the aerobics or step aerobics classes so you end up doing turns and spins and mambos and stuff. He also breaks it up into little routines. He'll teach the first section of the routine at the front of the class then, when he thinks you should know it, he'll wander off round the room and because he's not there at the front to copy, you have to remember the routine in your head, which I really liked too.

Since going to Bertie's classes I've always found other aerobics classes boring especially the ones I've done with people who have filled in for Bertie when he's been away in the past. I must admit I'm not looking forward to my Monday morning session next week now. I just hope I'll be pleasantly surprised and they'll replace him with someone just as inspiring...

3 comments:

June Houck said...: I need some of your discipline! I can usually find an excuse to skip the gym. I need to go back! All summer I went maybe a total of 6 times. I only went twice this week and last...hopefully next week I can make myself go and lose the weight I gained over the summer.; 14 September 2007 at 21:44
ScrapMomOf2 said...: First off, let me just say that I totally admire you for even going to the gym! I've never been one to go to an organized exercise class, probably because I'm basically lazy. I do, however, walk my dog every day, and that is my exercise! I should do more! Anyway, I hope you get a new inspiring instructor! You go girl!; 15 September 2007 at 14:35
Deborah said...: Hope it all works out for you at the gym. Good luck, you can always put on Shakira real loud "My hips don't lie" and dance you heart out! I do! Deb; 15 September 2007 at 21:02

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Ode to Special Mums

Ode to Special Moms(by Erma Bombeck)

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son, patron saint, Matthew.
Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, patron saint, Cecilia.
"Rudledge, Carrie, twins, patron saint, give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," says God. "Could I give a handicapped child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it.
"I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."

"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word.' She will never consider a 'step' ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations."I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, pen poised midair.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

"Welcome to Holland"

"Welcome to Holland" By Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss. But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.