During pregnancy I gained THREE whole stone. Imagine how much I would have weighed if the girlies had gone to full term! My thinking is that it takes 9 months (well, 7) to get that big, so I’ll give myself 9 months to get back to my normal body shape. Yep. Good plan. Only the girlies are 18 months old now, my tummy still needs toning and it *might* not help that I am currently eating a ‘Nutella & Go’. (Quite nice actually – like the old ‘Choc Dips’.)
Did you know that there are exercise classes for Mums that you can take babies to? In the name of research I decided to go to as many as I could find. This has the benefit of: a) Providing me with information for my website that will be a guide to Twin-friendly things in Brighton and also b) Actually getting me fit. And, if I’m honest, probably c) Getting me quite stressed and flustered too. Not quite sure how well babies and exercise classes mix. The way I see it, if it works out well, I will get the body I want and, if it goes horribly wrong, it’s all material for this blog. Take a guess which one it was.
The first one I tried was ‘Circuits for Mums’ at a local soft play called ‘Westows’. I parked on the street, unpacked the buggy and got the girlies out…to then be asked if I wouldn’t mind moving as a delivery van was arriving soon. (FFS!!!) This then made me late. This then made me stressed. (Ha! I KNEW it!!!) When I finally got there, I was directed to one of the indoor football pitches. The idea is that small babies remain in their buggies, crawlers can crawl around at one end of the space and the older children can join in with the circuit’s class. Sounds idyllic. What could possibly go wrong?
I took the girlies to the far end of the pitch and surrounded them with toys found in the footwell of my car, and all of the rice cakes floating around in my handbag before tiptoeing away to join the warm-up. As I skip around with all of the other Mums, I watch a three year old boy attempt to make friends with Girlie One. Aww, cute. Well, it would have been cute if he hadn’t opted for a slightly unorthodox approach to introducing himself. Perhaps he thought that she might quite like dinosaurs? Dunno. But he leapt in front of her and yelled ‘RRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRR!’ Presumably he was hoping that she would respond with delight? Or an equally loud dinosaur sound? Sometimes, when my twins are quiet for a little bit longer than is deemed necessary they like to fill the silence with a bone rattling squawking noise – much like a velociraptor. Perhaps the word had spread that they were particularly good at this? Unfortunately the three year old was wrong. I SAW my little daughter jump and let out the biggest, longest scream I’ve ever heard. Ooh, maybe she could rival his level of noise after all?
The little boy didn’t mean any harm, but I still ran over and told him that it’s not very nice to scare little babies. (Girlie One is now HOWLING and gripping my arm.) An idea hits me. Maybe the little boy could be a source of entertainment to my twins so that I could attempt to re-join the exercise class??? I showed him how to QUIETLY and gently do ‘peek-a-boo’ with a muslin. He very enthusiastically gave it a go whilst asking me many, many, many (and then some more) questions. It soon became apparent that I was now surrounded by THREE little people whose priority was not me joining in the circuits class. One firing questions at me, one clinging to me and one who was oblivious to the furore but was dead-set on trying to eat every little tiny piece of paper/lint/not-really-fussed-what-it-is she could find on the (reasonably grubby) pitch. *Sigh* This wasn’t what I had in mind. I tell the instructor that I’m leaving. She understands.
When you get the sense that things are starting to go wrong, it can be best just to give up rather than fight it. (This is in the case of taking twin babies out, not as a motto to live your life by.) Circuits for Mums looked like it would’ve been quite good. Also, one huge benefit of this class is that you can use the soft play afterwards…and who doesn’t LOVE being engulfed in rancid balls, eh?