Tuesday night I was at home with the kids by myself because Chuck was working late. (sidenote: unfortunately for him "working late" actually means working late). I fed the kids, and settled them into my bed with a movie to watch while I waddled my skin-tight-yoga-pant-clad butt downstairs to put in the P90X Yoga DVD. I started out pretty strong. I had a good thirty minutes to myself until I heard Luke scream from the top of the stairs, "Evie! Hurt!" I actually thought he was telling Evie that she was hurting him so I did nothing (yes, I'm that kind of mom) and he continued to scream, "Evie! Hurt! Evie's hurt!" until I finally snapped out of my yoga trance and pushed pause. I ran upstairs where I found Evie holding her head with George smiling like the Cheshire cat next to her.
Me, "What happened?"
Evie, "George hurt me! *sob*"
I looked at George, "Did you hurt Evie?"
George nodded, smiled and said cheerfully, "Uh huh!"
I scolded him and told Evie we could get her some ice.
I returned to my yoga. About 10 minutes later George joined me downstairs and started doing poses with me, such as downward facing dog. It was precious until he got up and jumped on my back while I was doing downward facing dog. I eventually got him off of me and told him to go get his basketball. (He has a serious obsession for basketball, but he likes someone to play with him). He brought the basketball over to me while I was holding the "tree" position" (pictured below) and began tossing the ball at me.
Luckily, I was able to hold the pose and catch and toss the ball like I was playing fetch with a dog - the dog being George. It worked for awhile until I heard Evie screaming from the top of the stairs, "Mommy! Luke's hurt!" This time I quickly paused the DVD and ran upstairs with George and the two dogs running after me. (Everyone loves a little excitement at the house).
When I made it upstairs, Luke had bumped his shin on the bed frame and was in tears. I gathered him up and took him downstairs to apply ice to his shin. (It was actually pretty bad and bruised up nicely). At this point, I had been working out for 90 minutes and still had 35 minutes left in my 90-minute yoga video. I sat everyone down and told them that I just needed to finish this video, but when they saw all the fun poses - downward facing dog, upward facing dog and all the other poses - they assumed that I must be contorting myself for no other purpose than to have them crawl under, over, around, and on me.
So for example, they would run under me in this pose:
And push me over in this pose as they tried to swing on my legs and arms:
After which, Luke rolled onto his stomach and announced, "Now it's Gas Time!" I looked at him in wonder and said, "Huh?" just before he farted loudly and began laughing uncontrollably.
I sat back and watched the hotshots on the video do this pose.
Evie wondered why I wasn't doing it and insisted she could do it. She promptly fell flat on her face and started crying because her teeth bit into her lip when her face hit the ground. (I tried not to laugh. I really did.)
At one point Luke sat down next to me in this pose and started to chant "ooohmm . . . ooohmm"
I eventually bribed Luke to play with my iPhone, Evie to play with Barbies, and George (unable to be convinced to do anything else) watched me continue my yoga moves as he bounced his basketball off my head repeatedly (I wish I was exaggerating here). It only took me a little over two hours to complete my yoga video, but it was a bitch of a workout.
While the yoga video is filmed with soothing music in the background, I was serenaded to the tunes of the Star Wars video game battle on my iPhone, an intermittent thump of a ball against my head, screams and cries from the children, and for a short while the blessed sounds of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, which I set up to play on my computer in the den where I was working out. But the cherry on the top was when the dogs also decided to get in on the under, over, in, and out action as I twisted myself into various yoga poses, and after taking a whiff and checking George's diaper three times, I realized that Walter had a dingleberry hanging from his butt which he had paraded by and under me for God-only-knows how long. Thank you Tuesday. It was a real humdinger of an evening.