Owie ow ow ow ow.

I think I overextended myself at exercise class yesterday. It was the first class I've attended in more than 2 weeks, and it was a real fitness class (not a gentle, don't-hurt-your-recovering-body, baby n' me class). And most damning of all, it was a class wherein the participants shout 'woo' when they're really feeling the burn. The instructor was pretty good about keeping it basic, but it's only the second real fitness class I've attended in years so there was bound to be trouble.

When I got up this morning I could feel the burn all over. In my legs. Through my back. Down my arms. Up my neck. Over my butt. Even in my abs, the part I tend to work the least. I did not want to shout 'woo.' I keep looking in the mirror, expecting to see a totally ripped, totally fab body hanging under my brain. Unfortunately, one class hasn't made me Madonna. But then again, would I want it to?

For all my residual soreness Blake had a worse time. I left him in childcare for the first time and he fell apart. It's not like I didn't expect it; he's been away from us exactly once in his life, and that was in the middle of the night in Edmonton (where everything was topsyturvy for him anyway). Even when I'm nearby I can expect him to be clingy during the first few times in a new place (c.f. our first exercise class during which he cried for an hour and then peed on the instructor).

But even though I expected all of this, I was still horrified when then brought me out of class and I saw my child. He was crying like his heart was broken into a million jagged shards and no one could fix it. He wasn't angry, he wasn't insistent, he just sounded defeated.

The second time they brought me back to cheer him up, I told the worker not to wait. "I know he needs to get used to the child care room, but don't worry about interrupting me. I'll come whenever you need me."

On the way out, I met a mother of a little girl. Her baby had also cried for most of the hour, and I overheard her explain that her child is carried around for most of the day in a Baby Bjorn. I wish we could persuade the women to wear our babies, but I doubt they would. I don't know why; it makes their job so much easier. Maybe I'll ask if I go again next week. Maybe by that time my legs won't ache.

Today we indulged ourselves with friends and food and costuming. Stacy had something of an open house this morning and we seized the opportunity to dress Blake like a bee and bring him over. I am loving Hallowe'en this year - in some moments I miss the parties & the adult stuff, but mostly I'm thankful that Blake has caused new life to rush into what was becoming old hat. When every day is Hallowe'en, the thrill of the costume is considerably damped down. But this year I have a baby bee! Get ready for lots of pictures!

daddy tries to get the antenna on, but bumble blake isn't having any of it

fly away, little bee! escape!

it's not easy being bee

you can really see my patches where the stripes ran out. but damn - doesn't he look cute with the flowers behind his ears?

now's the time on blakers when we dance
How thrilled was I at the chance to buy Blake a form-fitting black outfit?
Now I can have a bohemian baby any day of the week!

I really enjoyed myself this morning. There's nothing like hanging out with fun interesting people who accept your new life role and love the cause of it, even when the cause isn't dressed up like a bumble bee. There's also something to be said for practising my waning socializing skills with a sympathetic crowd; when I go back to work in the winter I need to be able to talk to adults and near-adults if I want anyone to speak to me at all. I have to say, I did kind of bribe everyone: I made banana cake I made for the occasion and it was rather excellent. (I'm practising for the Original Six birthday party in two weeks; I'm in charge of the baby cake and I'm working on reduced sugar recipes. Since Eva New York throws up when she eats banana, I'm thinking that carrot would be a smart idea.)

that's the last time I take ice cream from a witch

Today's helping of Blake miscellany:

At Baby Club on Thursday morning, we discovered that naked Blake weighs 18 pounds and 14 ounces. Won't be long before we're in that forward-facing car seat.

Today Blake started babbling while he scrunched up his nose. This produced a weird, nasal voice which he enjoyed immensely. I think this is the first time he has put on a joke voice to amuse himself.

For some reason, Blake is deathly afraid of the harmonica. Whenever the Boy plays a few notes on it, Blake bursts into tears and cowers against my shirt. I'm hoping that this will protect him from the evils of Bob Dylan.

Blake is the cutest bee, like, ever.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 10/30/2004 10:08:00 p.m.