(To see the fantastic video of the totally 80s song that inspired that title, please go here.
You are so welcome.
I hear that in those big cities with all the people and the bright lights and the coffee shops and whatnot, there are actually gyms you can go to that have child care. Like, you can leave your children elsewhere in the building to play with filthy toys while you go walk on a treadmill for half an hour in blissful solitude.
Well, solitude except for the fifty other people working out all around you, but at least solitude when it comes to screaming children.
Sometimes I think this sounds great. Except for the fact that I don't want to live in a city, have to get in the car to exercise, work out in a gym with other people around me, or walk on a treadmill. Ever.
Plus, my lack of access to such a thing means that if there's an unfortunate incident involving my clothing and coffee while I'm trying to balance a four-year-old and a toddler during a pre-workout reading of an oversized book version of Peter and the Wolf, I don't have to bother changing out of the clothes I'm just going to sweat in.
Luckily, my shirt took the hit for the couch and the children.
By the way, in case you were wondering who that person is on my t-shirt, it's William Penn. The shirt comes from Philadelphia and was a random gift from a family member. It has a picture of the man, and a quote that reads, "Let us then see what love will do." So it was obviously already some bad-ass workout apparel, which I further improved by cutting the sleeves shorter and cutting the neck wider, because I felt like it was choking me every time I wore it. And now it's covered in coffee stains.
But I can still wear it to work out! Here's to the home gym (by which I mean four square feet of my living room rug) and stay-at-home motherhood. Sure saves on the clothing expenditures.