Thatcher got his first official hair cut this week (the home cuts I've "experimented" with certainly don't count considering he was all hacked up as an end result). He did pretty well sitting up there in his car chair watching Elmo on the little tv. What a deal! When I was little, I got my hair cut by my mom's friend in her basement sitting on a stool. I mean really.
They styled him up with some product and he was looking pretty suave I must say.
And now to the next topic...I cannot feel my legs or arms. And I am not joking. Since Thatcher is now an expert at the gym daycare, I started back with the punisher yesterday (aka Spinning class). The workout was great and didn't kill me, although judging by the red face and sweat drenching it may have appeared otherwise. Skip forward 24 hours to this morning. I got all hot-shot and decided to hit up "body works" lifting class. Folks, I've officially met the REAL punisher. I walk in looking for a bubbly little instructor. Bubbles was nowhere to be found. In her place was my cycling instructor from yesterday morning. I should have known I was in for it when I scoped his outfit. Spandex on spandex. TUCKED IN. He led us though over an hour of excruciating exercises in sync with the music styling of Enya and whatever else chanting crap he had playing. NOT motivating-rather anger inducing considering the slow and steady pain being inflicted. I want bubbles! I need bubbles!
I'm sure my pain will subside and my body will thank me. Thatcher might not however, as I can barely lift his 28 lbs off the ground and in and out of the car seat!
Enough of that. Tomorrow night (Friday) my brother is going to babysit while Brandon and I have a proper date. Dress up, drink wine, out to dinner the whole shebang. I can't wait!!! Hopefully I can walk by then or I might have to opt for slippers versus stilettos.
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