Gym etiquette rant

Since I've been working at the gym I don't workout there as much. One thing I'm trying to do is continue with the spin classes. I took my first two last week and would very much like to continue. The first instructor said it takes a person a good six weeks before being comfortable with spin and this is going twice a week.

There is a spin class 6 days a week with some days having class twice a day. The only catch is getting there early enough for a bike. The room where it's located is small so the gym doesn't have nearly enough bikes for the demand. There is talk about relocating the spin room but there's always talk of something or another going on at the gym. Hell, there's a whole second floor the gym could utilize and they don't.

This morning I get to the gym 15-20 minutes early, drop Jake off, chat a few and head off towards the spin room. Every single bike was spoken for whether the person was physically in the building or not. I still don't understand how you can claim a bike for a person who isn't in the building. And the regulars are chatting it up like they own the place. Wait, they think they do because it's their class and fuck the newbies.

I hop on the treadmill only to notice a mom/instructor head off towards the spin room. She was going towards daycare with her boys while I headed out into the gym for the class. Apparently she claimed a bike before dropping her kids off. I don't understand how a person can justify this. I was ready for class walking into the room whereas she wasn't. I could have had the bike she claimed if she didn't stop off first with her boys.

Gee, just because you've been at the gym longer then me or the next new person or you teach a class here and there doesn't mean you can piss all over anyone trying a class for the first time. Or third. Have a bit of respect for those challenging themselves or getting healthy. We all start out new at one time or another.

Garbage is wasted

Upon moving to our house we started recycling once again. Outside of paper and cardboard we slacked on this while living on the Arsenal.

Initially we thought all plastics could be recycled. Our trash for the week? One bag for the garbage men to pick up. This is for a family of five. Jason and I couldn't believe the amount of trash we recycled the first week only to be shot down at the recycling center. The city of Leavenworth only recycles plastic drink bottles, glass, aluminum and paper products. Nothing else. All of our rinsing of yogurt containers, shaking out bread bags, etc., were for naught.

Still we recycle quite a bit. Our trash each week is one giant black trash bag for the three bags from the house. Looking at the driveways on our street we have the least amount of trash among our neighbors. We're not talking by a bag or two. We only have one or two bags a week for the garbage men. Everyone else has a minimum of five if not more. Why? The unscientific answer is a lack of recycling. If every neighbor recycled at least one item, whether it's glass, drink bottles or paper, they'd cut down their trash by at least two bags a week. Easily.

One doesn't have to be all gungho on recycling or turning green. Every little bit helps.

I want a job like hers

One of my co-workers doesn't understand working = paycheck. She prefers sitting on her ass doing nothing while racking in the money. Only problem is our job pays slightly above minimum wage so no one's getting rich. She's also notorious for calling in for no reason in particular other then not wanting to work on any given day. Her boyfriend is a slight sugar daddy. I say this because, while he has a paycheck and pays the bills, he's not fabulously wealthy.

Yesterday I worked with this person by default. My whole intention was getting a workout at the gym instead of covering for my supervisor. Renee had to pick up her oldest at school since she was sick. Not a problem. I was already there to drop off Jake so I picked up a few extra hours.

I sat on the floor surrounded by kids. I had them running cars up and down my back. I was reading stories. I taught them how to hop like a frog. I got pummeled by our favorite time-out child. All the while T was sitting in the baby area where she wouldn't need to actively engage with the kids. Me? In my gym clothes getting more snot rubbed on me as the day progressed.

I'd like to think T would realize her expectations are shit in the real world and she'll grow up. Only I feel this will never happen since she's in her mid-twenties already. She's not a prima donna with the hopes of being kept in a life of privilege. She just doesn't want to work and still take home a paycheck.

Granted today I sat in the rocker with two babies who fell asleep on me, one of which christened my shirt with his snot. Inbetween the sleeping babies my supervisor and I took turns in entertaining the kids or calming them down. We do have an easy job, some would say a slack job. Still doesn't mean we can sit on our arses twiddling our thumbs.

Raising the white flag

Jake's a rather ornery little bugger and I'm not quite sure how to nip this in the bud. While he absolutely loves giving hugs, kisses and cuddling there's the other side of him which is straight up wanker boy.

Last night he pegged me with his sippy cup, which was full by the way. The first throw was behind him getting many laughs from Brendan and Colin. His second throw was in our direction on the couch. I was in tears from the pain since the edge clipped me right above my left eyebrow. You can see the lump still this morning. Last night you could feel the indent on one side from where the sippy cup got me. Now it's just one giant lumpy bruise. This was on top of him getting me in the face with two toys at work yesterday morning. I didn't sign up to be a human punching bag.

I love this kid to death but nothing seems to register in the 'hey, stop jumping on mom/dad' or 'the biting/rubbing snot/licking must go'. Nevermind he thinks any attempt at discipline means the start of a game. I can't help but laugh when Jason goes after him for a time out and Jake runs away laughing madly. It makes me feel better in not being the only one given the finger by Jake.

I will qualify this in saying he's not flat out ornery with no redeeming qualities. He readily helps in cleaning, goes to bed great, eats great, has manners and what not. It's the one part of him taking after Colin which is frustrating as hell. Sure, he's two with the two yr old attitude but this only goes so far.

I mean, seriously, this is the child giving me grief. The look of sweet innocence. My ass.

I know how ass feels

This morning I woke up with a cotton mouth, sore throat, stuffed up ears and ears. Lovely. I've been fighting something the past week which has now started to hunker down. My neighbor had strep a week ago, her youngest just got over a virus and her oldest has gotten said virus. My supervisor's husband finally recovered from bronchitis, tonsilitis, sinusitis and double ear infections. The boys are trying their damnedest in who can be more froggy. No wonder I feel like ass this Saturday morning. I'm hoping things don't get worse.

Last Wednesday was my first day working at the gym. Awhile back I noticed the chaos in the daycare when picking up Jake. I talked with both managers about this and they know there's a problem on certain days. While they only have two people working at a time a third can be sent down as needed. Eric and I talked about different ways management could approach the clientele when things got hectic. Because the vast majority of the kids during the mornings are military, I brought up how the families should be more understanding when things are full. One idea mentioned was having the parents come in every 20 minutes or so to check on their kids. I said I'd be willing to volunteer since I'm already coming to the gym daily, or almost daily.

All of this helps after working at SAS and knowing more about the inner workings of CYS then most with regards to ratios, etc.. While the daycare doesn't have to follow regulations since they are not a proper daycare they do realize things can be overflowing. Being Red Cross certified also helped.

The pay sucks but it'll be our pocket money. It's not all bad even during the chaos.

I haven't dropped off the face of the earth.

My head is full of shit at the moment which I'm still sifting through. One positive note I've gotten a very part-time job at my gym and my best friend is a fucking rockstar. She's going to 'give' me a job with her so I can have more on my resume. It's not far off since I've been editing grant proposals for her. Still, it's way more then I expected and I love her massively for this.

Let's hear it for projectile vomit!

Kidding. Seriously, no cheering allowed for projectile vomiting. I am not joking here. Maybe once I'm done with the appletini my neighbor made for me I could joke but not now. The liquor has yet to kick in and the candle is barely masking the eau de vomit wafting through the air.

Brendan started looking puny during lunch. At one point he complained of his back hurting. Considering the amount of monkeying around the boys have done this weekend between wrestling, using both Jason and I as jungle gyms, running around at the park, I wasn't exactly surprised about any aching going on. Because he wasn't feeling up to par, Jason told him he'd stay here instead of going with him on a few errands. Not a problem since he's been fighting a cold for the past couple of days. A nap would do him some good at this point even if he denies any sort of ill feeling within his body.

While Colin waited for Jason I had the boys start putting their laundry away. Colin runs into the bedroom saying Brendan threw up. Brendan's standing there, holding his clean laundry now covered in vomit. I have him toss the clothes to the ground, thinking he only needed to brush his teeth until one look at his face. Off he runs to the bathroom only he doesn't make it in time. All over the door, carpet and wall. Fucking awesome. Have I ever mentioned my sympathy vomiting I have since being pregnant? Yeah especially since I'm the one cleaning up the mess from a barely digested lunch.

At this point he's finished puking and is brushing his teeth while I'm staring at the mess. Staring. Trying not to breathe the fresh smell of puke. Jason starts giggling as I'm kneeling beside the first area, gloved and ready with a roll of paper towels. Brendan told him he feels okay now and still wants to hang out with Dad and Colin.

At least I have a double appletini at my elbow as I type this. Half drunk in it's neon green glow. Anything is better with liquor. Or beer but I wasn't in the mood for beer.