Fitness is bad for your, er, my health

Have you ever had one of THOSE days? Ya know, where absolutely nothing goes right? Well, my life seems to be a string of THOSE days.

Take for instance, this morning . . .

I was up at 5. I went out to check on the boys, only to find Ace and Duece already dressed with their beds made. Wow. That NEVER happens. So, I am optimistic that this is going to be a great day. (I ignored the fact that their clothes didn't match whatsoever because, hey, the were dressed, and that means that I don't have to do it.)

I go put on a pot of coffee and start getting breakfast around. We're out of cereal and creamer, so I'm a little defeated, but I'm still optimistic. It's going to be a great day. I can feel it.

I get the food on the table, Paco heads out the door for work, and it's still early. I have 12 full minutes of shower time. That NEVER happens. See, I know it's going to be a great day.

I savor the extra hot shower and enjoy every second.

I get out, dry off, and start getting dressed for the day. It's 7 below today, and I have a bunch of running around to do this morning. So, I am going to dress warm.

I get my bra and undies on, and I see the new sports bra I bought laying on top of my dresser. (You see, my "girls" are so insanely large that I need to wear 2 bras when I jog on the treadmill so I don't get black eyes.) I decide that I will wear the sports bra too for an extra layer, and then I'll be ready to hit the treadmill when I get home after work. And, if it doesn't work, I can take it back to the store while I'm out this morning.

This is where it all starts to go down hill . . .

I bought the sports bra in a size 38DD. My bra size is 36G (Zoiks! I know . . .) But, I thought the 38DD would be close enough. Clearly I don't have enough expertise with sports bras because I was wrong. Very wrong.

Somehow, while sliding the sports bra over my head and down my slightly dewy body, I managed to get the darn thing twisted so tight that it was practically acting as a tourniquet on my armpits. I've got the bra around my chest, below my armpits, but above my boobs. And somehow I've managed to slide it around in such a way that I can't put my arms down all the way either. My arms are stuck over my head, and this damn sports bra is starting to cut off my circulation.

Now, what's a girl to do? I'm literally tangled up in this damn thing, and I can't wiggle it up back over my head. So, I call for back up.

"Um, Ace, can you come help Mommy for a minute?" Silence. "Ace, mommy REALLY needs your help can you please get in here right away?"

A few seconds later I hear the pitter patter of little feet across the hard wood, and I see Ace trudge through the door. "What Mom?"

"um, honey, I'm stuck, can you help me pull this thing off?"

Before I get the words out of my mouth, he tears out the door. The next sound I hear sounds like a herd of cattle running across the hard wood, and suddenly I see three sets of eyes in my room. And, naturally, they are all pointing and laughing.

"Boys, this is not funny. Mommy is stuck. Please help me pull this over my head."

Duece is laughing, and he tells me that he can see my "shakelies." (Boobies to the normal person.) "No you cant!" I yell. "Uh huh" he says. I look in the mirror and see that one of my girls has somewhat fallen out of her harness, I guess with all the tugging and all. And, at the moment, there is nothing I can do about it.

"Stop looking" I yell. "And help me get this thing off!"

So, Ace and Duece are trying to pull the damned bra back over my head, when I feel a thwack on my side and hear a big giggle. I look down and Trey is hitting my muffin top with his hand and watching it wobble. "Mom, you've got jigglies!" he says. "Leave my jigglies alone," I snarl.

But, before you know it, all three boys are swatting at the extra rolls that are protruding from my sides. I can't help but to do the ol' laugh/cry at this point. The boys are tee-heeing and having a blast swatting my jigglies while I am about to lose my arms from lack of blood flow.

Finally, they settle down enough to help me get out of the bra. It takes several good tugs, and all three boys pulling to get it back over my head.

My underarms are bruised, and I feel like I've been power lifting. I don't think I could wave right now I am so sore.

Needless to say, the sports bra has been returned. And, I am waiting for the teachers to start calling me at work. I can only IMAGINE what the boys are saying this morning. I'm sure I have scarred them all for life.

And how is YOUR day?