Mommy shakes her groove thang

Ah, the endless quest for balance. It's so much easier said than done. Between trying to spend quality time with my little guy so that he doesn't think our daycare lady is "momma," having some grown-up time with the hubby so we have things to talk about other than baby poop, working full-time, and oh yea, trying to still be the same ME I was pre-baby (what's with the guilt associated with this part?!) -- I decided it was high time I got my butt back to the gym.

Now, full disclosure. It isn't just the baby I had 10 MONTHS* ago that has kept me from the gym. No joke, I broke a bone in my foot from the sheer weight of trying to look cute in heels when prego (lesson learned). That little faux pas has kept me from jumping around on my feet for months. In the meantime, I've been attempting to keep my muffin top in check with stroller walks around the neighborhood after work every day. While I'm probably not burning the Halloween candy calories, these strolls do help me kill a few birds with one stone on the balance-quest - I socialize with a fellow neighbor-mommy-friend, spend time with T-man, AND get some exercise in.

However, I miss the gym. And the classes. And the cute yoga pants I had a good excuse to wear. It was definitely time. This was the week to take the plunge. It's a little embarrassing to think of swiping my membership card and seeing ZERO historical attendance in the past, uh, year - but hopefully they didn't judge me too much.

Finding a class was harder than you might expect. I wanted to time it so that I could manage to pick up T at daycare, get him home before the Hubs got home from work, and be back home again before bathtime. My old step class? Gone (yes, I know this fad went out with the 1990s, but I'm still a holdover, ok? Shoot me.). My old cardio kickboxing class? Gone. Zumba. Hmm...now this is something I figured I could work with! I danced for years and years and took exercise classes pretty consistently - so a dancey aerobics class is right up my alley. Or was. It appears momma's got no rhythm. And she's limping today from tweaking her knee while trying to shake her booty. I'm not sure how the two are connected either. Don't judge. Obviously, momma needs some wine to get her groove on aerobics practice.

*Uh, that means my little newborn is 10 months old already. How does that happen?