The first day of my holidays. Spent most of it helping my brother move, and, as far as moves goes, it went very smoothly. Seems I impressed the socks off my sister-in-law's dad (my brother's father-in-law, too!) with my lifting prowess. See my muscles?? Not what they used to be, really, at all. I gave up going to the gym - all you dedicated parents will understand this - because it took too much time away from being with my daughter. I need one that opens EARLY in the morning. If I can't do it before work, I have to go in the evenings, and my youngest, who just turned twelve, is at that oh, so delightful stage where she craves mummy time. I know this stage is fleeting. In another year or so her focus will shift outside the house, and I don't want to miss these last precious months: "Just a minute, dear...not right now, dear...later on, sweetie...hang on a sec, love..." and then, when I have that spare minute, she'll be gone. Can't let that happen. So I'm spending time with my sweet daughter and losing my muscle tone. A friend suggested I find a gym she can go to as well. Great idea!! I discovered that any gym that offers weight training, which is what I do, has a standard policy against children under the age of fifteen or so entering the premises. Insurance issues, I'm sure. That leaves me with aerobics, which I hate, hate, hate, and besides, since my son was born (4400 grams/ 9 lb 10 - in 87 minutes of labour) I can't bounce, jump, or even jiggle too strenuously without peeing myself. *Sigh*. I'm considering surgery for this one. All the Kegels in the world haven't fixed it. So, scratch the aerobics. (Yay!) Can't go to weight gym for a while. (Boo!) I can work out with the free weights I have at home, and go for long walks. It's a compromise. It's even a sacrifice, but Emma is worth it! And tomorrow I'll start my archive posting.