A jiggly bowl of guilt

So, I think it’s time. It’s time for me to join a gym. Since having Sam my exercise regime has been pretty much nil, with the exception of my awesome performance at the strollercize class, of course. And so as I watch my stomach jiggle (I originally spelled that “giggle” - wonder what that means…) due to my newfound obsession with baking and devouring the results, I figure I gotta do something here. But I’ll be honest, it’s not just to exercise. While the exercise element is all well and good and good for me too, this decision, in great part, is so that I can get a break…from Sam.

The gym that I am thinking of joining has childcare, and I would be joining specifically so that Sam and I could go during the week when Hubby is gone. I feel bad…sort of. In a lot of ways I think it might be good for Sam. We’re in each other’s face all the time. Maybe he’d like a break from me too. Maybe it would do us both some good. He might benefit from having some more independent time and exploring a new place with new people. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just rationalizing it that way so that I can feel ok about putting him in a childcare situation, which I’ve never done. Truth be told, Sam has never been left with anyone other than one friend we had back in Chicago and family members. The idea of leaving him in a room with strangers may end up being way more than I can handle. I also recall a few posts I’ve read in the past that make me wary of gym childcare. I went and toured the place on Saturday and asked a lot of questions. I also asked about it on the message board for “the club.” All the moms who responded said the care there was pretty good and that their kids enjoyed going. Maybe Sam would too.

I guess I just feel like I’d do a better job mothering if I could have just a little bit of time each week to do something for myself. It doesn’t really happen on the weekend because there is always so much to do, including spending time together as a family. The time just flies by. And yet the weekdays are loooooong. It’s just Sam and me for 13 hours every day. I feel like it’s really important for us to have ways to break up the day and keep things interesting. I am able to find TONS of errands to do in the morning just for the sake of getting out of the house for a change of scenery, but I can’t keep that up because it is just turning into a big spending habit that we totally CANNOT afford. This would be another way to have something scheduled in to break up the day and perhaps be beneficial for both of us. I get some exercise and a much needed break a few times a week, and Sam gets to do something a little more interesting than hanging out with Mommy at home or running errands. So why am I rationalizing this? Because when I read this over again it’s pretty obvious that that’t what I’m doing. Why should I feel bad about having someone else take care of Sam for a little while so that I can have 2-3 hours a week? Is it normal for me to feel bad about this? Jeez! Where does this come from, this mommy guilt?

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