My little big boy...

My gym, Equinox, has a kids club. This means that for a small fee I can have 3 or 4 women play with my baby for 2 hours while I exercise-off my last 20 10 pounds. I've known about this feature for months now, but since Oliver is so attached to me I dreaded leaving him with anyone else for fear he would go bonkers. Instead I've been speed walking the West Side Highway and the Brooklyn Bridge with Oliver in his stroller. Needless to say, this hasn't done the job and my skinny jeans are mocking me.

I decided it's time to get serious. And serious means the gym. And the gym means the kids club. And the kids club means Oliver could go bonkers.

The next morning, I woke up and immediately threw on my gym clothes so I would have no excuses. After Oliver's 9am nap, we headed over and I got the scoop. No sick kids, no kids under 3 months, and no diaper changes. If there's a code brown, they give you a pager and beep you so that you can do the honors.

Easy enough. I unstrap Oliver from the stroller and his eyes bug out of his face when he sees all the kids playing and all the toys on the floor. He's clearly psyched.

I sit him down on the floor and the women say "Okay!"

I look at them and say "Okay."

They look at me and and say "Okay?"

I look at them and say "O-Okay..."

They look at me, reach out a hand to my shoulder and say, "It will be okay."

I look at them and say "Okay."

I turn and leave quickly because I'm mortified it is not Oliver going bonkers, it's me.

PATHETIC!

See, it wasn't that Oliver wasn't crying that in turn made me cry. It was that this was such a big boy thing to do. He was so mature! So adult like!

Of course, as I write this, he's crying in his room because he does not want to nap. What a baby.