Author Archives: Nicole Boyhouse

The Return of the Book Fair Lady – now a made-for-TV movie!

Posted on by

This weekend my husband and I went to a fundraiser for a great charity that supports mothers and children in crisis situations; there was a silent auction, a raffle, and alcohol, which is the best kind of fundraiser, in my opinion. I made off with a great Matt and Nat bag, and my husband got some Snap-on tools, which are evidently a superior brand of tools. Whenever I say the word “tools” I think of Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. My dad has an awesome set of tools. Anyone else?

The fundraiser also featured a colouring contest. For adults. Have you ever been around a bunch of alcohol-fueled adults attempting to win a colouring contest? I highly recommend it for entertainment purposes. The judge was also the MC, and everyone kept trying to figure out how to tip the scales of colouring judgement in their favour. The judge – quite randomly – announced that he was homosexual, and the first winning picture featured a number of rainbows. He was also, apparently, a Dallas Cowboys fan, and a fellow at our table won another round of colouring by drawing the Cowboys logo all over his picture. Sadly, I lack any talent in the crayon department, so I didn’t win any of the enormous gift baskets.

Speaking of enormous things (that’s what she said), I went to Costco on Friday. On Friday! What was I thinking? I employed my friend Alice’s rule of Costco Karma, which is instead of fuming about the idiots who leave their giant carts helter-skelter in the parking lot, rather than walk ten steps to return them to the cart corral, one needs to take one of those carts and return it after shopping. Returning a cart, Alice says, is a positive step to cleaning up the horror that is the Costco parking lot, and will ensure good karma on your shopping trip. It was only somewhat true, since they didn’t have the premade gingerbread houses I like to use at Christmastime to reduce tears of frustration, but I guess that isn’t really the fault of the Costco Karma rule. I did manage to obtain a roll of wrapping paper that weighs more than my yoga mat – and I have a Manduka – so that’s something, I think. Every few years I buy wrapping paper at Costco because it’s such good quality, forgetting that I have several rolls that are not quite finished. The result is an immense amount of wrapping paper. This is Stage Four in the Stages of Costco, I believe. My coffin could be wrapped in the paper I amass through my lifetime, hopefully not any time soon.

The biggest story of the week, though, is that it is Book Fair week! The Return of the Book Fair Lady – this will be the title of the (made-for-TV) movie of my life. What? There are worse made-for-TV movies. In any case, it appears that my week will be taken up by fielding questions about the cupcake shaped erasers – no, you can’t eat them – and the price of posters – five dollars for each poster, yes, that one is also five dollars, they are all five dollars. I sound like I’m complaining but I’m not, really. I do like the general festive feeling of the Book Fair, and I like the glamourous fame that being the Book Fair Lady brings. For example, I am the one who wields the “reorder” forms. I am the one who can tell you where the newest Diary of a Wimpy Kid resides. It’s all glamour, all the time.

There are a few inches of snow on the ground, and the weather has turned from mild to agonizingly cold overnight. Some people say that November is the dreariest month, but to be honest, I kind of love it. It’s got a cozy, pre-festive feeling to it. The sudden onset of winter means that I can put away my ankle booties and just concentrate on the five-pound Sorels and snow boots. Like a toddler overwhelmed by the sight of cereal, toast, AND a sippy cup on his tray, the choice of what to wear is taken out of my hands. I will wear my coat that requires its own postal code; no messing around with the lighter options. There’s something comforting about this; I’m certainly not a winter girl, and I don’t like the cold, but for now it’s all about being grateful for a warm house, warm food, and gigantic layers of warm clothing.

How to be the most glamourous, exciting, and charming girl in your set.

Posted on by

So much sadness, my washer died mid-cycle today, leaving behind a stinky mess of sopping wet clothes and an odour that is permeating the basement. Goodbye, washer. I’ll miss you. Meanwhile I spent a sizeable chunk of time pulling the clothes out and finding places to hang them so they won’t mildew prior to my camping out at a VERY KIND friend’s house with my laundry basket. I feel a bit like a desperate university student, like I’m going to start dragging a garbage bag full of clothes around with me. Also, I dripped some of the icky undrained water on my sweater and leggings so now I feel like I smell a bit. I probably do smell a bit, distressingly enough.

Anyway, there are worse problems, right? Like finding this is in the green space behind my house:

deadguy

I was backing out of the garage, on my way to run errands, and I saw a leg sticking out from behind a pile of branches. Hmm. I have seen people, on many occasions, passed out in the alley and green space behind my house, so I assumed it was a similar situation. Hours later, it was still there. By this time I had the kids in the car and I had to know – was it a body? I told the kids to stay put and I nervously approached what I HOPED wasn’t a dead body. The kids kept yelling from the car, to not go near it, because it was DEAD. Mom, NO. NO! Don’t go near the dead body!

And yet, I was compelled to approach it, because I worried that if it was actually a dead body, we would have an unreported dead body in the alley, and that seemed way worse than my viewing said dead body. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it was just a mannequin with its arm ripped off, and yet, it wasn’t all that reassuring. How did it get there? What, exactly, are my neighbours up to?

Speaking of creepy, I’ve been going through my Childhood Boxes of Terror, as my husband calls them, and there are some very interesting findings indeed. For example, a Xeroxed letter from Corey Hart, indicating my admission into the Corey Hart Fan Club.

CoreyHart

And in case you’re not sure it gets better than that, it does.

RoyalBaby

This ain’t my first rodeo OR Royal Baby Watch.

Those old People magazines are a hoot, by the way. The hairstyles alone are worth the price of admission. Plus, there are so many cigarette ads! Virginia Slims – You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby. Not only did I collect these magazines, paper doll books, and commemorative publications, but I also had this:

Scrapbook

Not only does it have very carefully pasted magazine and newspaper clippings that are very carefully labelled, the front of the book features swoopy writing and a My Little Pony puffy sticker.

Have you ever felt lacking in charm? Maybe you don’t feel beautiful? Or glamourous? Lord knows that after bailing out a smelly dead washing machine, I feel a little wilted. Well, I have the antidote for you:

charmandbeauty

Do YOU want to become the most glamourous, exciting, and charming girl in your set? Faithfully following the pointers in these books will lead to instant popularity and, needless to say, happiness. These were published in the early 60s and they are GOLD. There is an entire section answering the question as to why one should use deodorant, and another whole section on the monthly curse, although it is not titled as such. If you’ve noticed an increased interest in homemaking and grooming, you may be ready for the talk.

Well, I am pretty interested in homemaking at the moment, specifically, how to get my home to not smell like a mildewed sewer. It’s a good thing I’m going to be recipe testing this weekend for homemade vegan Baileys. I have a feeling I’m going to need it, if only to dull the pain of missing my dear, departed washer.

Achievement Unlocked

Posted on by

Over the last few weeks I’ve been doing a nice mix of online shopping and blast-through-the-mall shopping, and I can proudly announce that I am all done Christmas shopping, including teacher’s gifts and stocking stuffers. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED. I think this is a new record for me, but I don’t think I’ll be breaking this record any time soon. November 4th is probably as early as I’m going to get.

One reason I wanted to get my shopping out of the way is that next week is the Scholastic Book Fair, and I am running it for the sixth year in a row, making this my thirteenth book fair. Thirteenth! I wonder if it’s unlucky. Maybe they’ll forget to send us the new Diary of a Wimpy Kid, or extra supplies of cake pop erasers. That would be unlucky indeed. In any case, next week is spoken for, and so this morning I had a little bit of time so I hit the mall with a vengeance. I only got distracted once, by the Sorel boot display at Town Shoes. If there had been a saleslady around to answer my question as to the cold-rating of some very cute and non-clunky boots, I would have been poorer in money but richer in boots. Alas, it was not to be.

My usual reason for getting my shopping done in November is that Christmas shopping in December is completely depressing and soul-destroying. It all starts with the parking. The mall parking lot is always full, with cars creeping behind pedestrians to see where they are parked and parking-lot-rage-infused people who wait with their signal lights flickering only to have someone else sneak in to the desired spot. There is always a lot of honking, and people wandering in front of cars, and a general feeling of “this must be what hell is like”. Actually inside the mall is terrible too: it’s freezing outside and so you have your winter coat and boots on, but the thermostat is set to “Hades” inside. There are insane lineups, crying children, and extraordinarily tense adults. It’s like all the bad parts of Disneyland without the fun of Dole Whip and the Jungle Cruise. It’s all the exhausted princess-gowned and mouse-eared children, sobbing in limp, over-stimulated piles, being dragged along by the arm by parents with grim, let’s-just-get-through-this expressions, and hour-long lineups and relentless heat, and tinny music on repeat, without the joy of churros and corny jokes about rhinoceroses.

154

Disneyland Joy!

166

Jungle Cruise Joy!

197

Pluto Joy!

202

Goddammit, why don’t they sell booze at Disneyland?

That’s what Christmas shopping in December makes me feel like.

Speaking of which, I was looking for blind bags for the kids’ stockings. Do you know what blind bags are? They are the plastic bags that have a toy – like Lego – inside and it’s a surprise as to what it is. Jake had wanted some for his birthday but I was unable to find them at Toys R Us, so I searched for some online. Online shopping – greatest invention ever, except for when looking for blind bags on the internet. For lo, what did my search results yield? A “Deluxe Grade Deer Carcass Bag”, complete with illustrated picture of a deer with x’s for eyes. “Holds one deer carcass OR one elk quarter!” the description added cheerily, and while I’m sure these are very useful items for people who hunt, it was not the kind of blind bag I was looking for. These are not the blind bags you are looking for. So, yesterday when I hit the mall I looked again for these apparently elusive items and found quite a number of them, so I’m guessing blind bags are a popular stocking stuffer, but less popular for those September babies. I also found this:

Han

Bow chicka wow wow.

I did not buy it, but I did stare at it admiringly for a few minutes. Is it weird to have a crush on an inanimate object?

Last night the boys had a hip-hop performance at the school. Part of the funds raised by the Parent Association go towards artists-in-residency, and this year the school hired a fellow to teach hip-hop. The first time I saw this dance teacher, when I was doing some volunteer work at the school, I did a double-take. I wondered if he was a parent, and if so, for what class?

132

In addition to being an enthusiastic and engaging dance teacher, this guy has fashion sense.

rj

Seriously, it takes a certain something-something to really pull this off!

Then I remembered about the residency and asked the boys their thoughts about this dance teacher. They were very enthusiastic, which isn’t something I normally say about their reactions to dance. The performance was unbelievably great, and involved a very cleaned-up version of Thrift Shop. (This smells like my…soccer cleats. What? It was 99 cents!) If you’re a Parent Association person in the area, and are looking for artists-in-residency options, have I got a recommendation for you! It’s not every day I get to see my kids throw down the moves like stars. It’s also not every day I get to see acid-washed jean overalls paired with a leopard-print shirt, and it WORKS. For some, it works.

The Horror

Posted on by

Is it too early to put up the Christmas decorations? According to everyone in my house, YES IT IS ARE YOU INSANE? However, just as retailers used to be before they started putting up festive trees in July, the second the pumpkins go into the compost I start thinking about Christmas. Well, technically before that because my shopping is three-quarters done, and I did sneak out and buy a few new decorations when I was supposed to be buying a birthday card for my mother-in-law. I also have been planning my Sears Catalogue Wish Book post since the end of August, when I picked it up.

I’m getting ahead of myself – how was Halloween? On Thursday I was volunteering in Jake’s class to carve pumpkins. Since I had volunteered in Mark’s class the week before, I considered myself an expert. I brought in my husband’s drywall knife and was applauded by all since I cut all the pumpkin tops off in less than five minutes. Seriously, people. Drywall knives are the way of the Halloween future. There was no school on Friday and so the class was all dressed up, and I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a class full of costumed third and fourth graders excited about Halloween and pumpkins, but it wasn’t exactly a relaxing afternoon.

003 004 008 017

Yesterday was a very long day. It was a PD day, and a PD day with the prospect of Trick or Treating is a long day indeed. I did what I could; I took the boys to Colour Me Mine, a pottery painting studio, and I watched the very excellent Phineas and Ferb movie, Night of the Living Pharmacists with them, but that still left a lot of day to kill, especially since my husband did not get home from work until almost six-thirty, when the children were pretty much insane with excitement. Since I am the not-fun parent, my husband takes the kids to Trick or Treat, while I stay at home to hand out candy. We had a record number of thirteen Trick or Treaters, including an adorable barely-walking pumpkin and two tiny Elsas. This also includes two girls from Mark’s class who asked if Mark was there or if he was Trick or Treating somewhere in the neighbourhood? Complete with giggles and batting eyelashes. We have reached a new era!

My parents have officially moved, and are now no longer ten minutes away from me. The upshot of this is that while they were cleaning and packing their old house, they came across four storage boxes with my name on it. I’ve been slowly going through them, and wondering what to do with the contents. The contents themselves are worthy of a whole series of posts; my husband has dubbed them “Nicole’s Childhood Boxes of Terror”. I don’t want to give too much away but here is a preview:

scarybaby

The baby wants to cuddle.

How’s THAT for a scary Halloween post?

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Is Almost Done Edition

Posted on by

Yesterday morning I woke up and headed to the bathroom to change into my yoga clothes. I wondered why I was feeling so exhausted, when I had gone to bed at a decent time; then I looked at the clock. It was 3:45. I’m just glad I figured that out before I left for the yoga studio, because that would have been weird.

This morning it was -5 Celsius when I woke up, which feels officially like winter. I pulled on my legwarmers and dug out my gigantic mittens so that I wouldn’t freeze walking the dog. Fall just really flew by, and it’s been forever since I’ve done a Favourite Things post, so today I bring you…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Is Almost Done Edition

Lee Valley Apple Peeler

Remember how I brought home 100 pounds of apples and fifty pounds of grapes from my in-laws’? I juiced the grapes (most of them, the rest I either ate or gave away to fruit-loving friends) and then mixed the thick, pulpy juice to make fruit leather. It’s amazing, and if I figure out how to write it up as a recipe without being totally vague (“puree some apples, add some juice, and dry it in a dehydrator”) it will be over at Yummy Mummy Club. In the meantime, check out the fruit leather!

028

The kids tell me this is The Best Fruit Leather Ever. Grapes, apples, and the secret ingredient: LOVE.

Seriously, it’s really good. But what does this have to do with the Lee Valley Apple Peeler? My husband gave me the apple peeler for Christmas – he knows what I like, apple peelers and diamonds – and I am not exaggerating when I tell you it is the single greatest apple peeler in the history of apple peelers. If you have a need to peel 100 pounds of apples, or any amount of apples, really, this is the tool to have. Peels, cores, slices, ALL AT THE SAME TIME. I think I’m a little bit in love with the apple peeler and that is not at all disturbing.

015

Apple carnage.

Halloween Festivities

Finally I got our decorative scarecrows up, only to have them taken down ten days later because the kids said they “didn’t fit with the theme”. The theme being creepy decorations.

027

Scarecrows are inappropriate additions to this house of terror.

A friend and I were talking about how as the kids age the Halloween decorations morph from happy little jack-o-lanterns into death and dismemberment. The cutesy little ghost and orange-hatted black cat are MY decorations, the kids put them up to humour me. Although, the black cat’s head is hanging on by a string so maybe “partially beheaded black cat” might be part of their overall vision.

In any case, we carved pumpkins this weekend and I de-gooped enough seeds to roast. This never happens. I usually get so bored with my job as pumpkin de-gooper and seed-cleaner that I end up throwing them out. This is a mistake! Warm roasted pumpkin seeds are more than worth it. Or kind of worth it, anyway.

Beauty Products

As you know, I’m always trying out new things – especially hair product. My, oh my, is my hair dry at this time of year. It’s only going to get drier and more straw-like. To add insult to injury, I realized this morning that it’s official: I cannot go six weeks between colourings any more. I’m starting to look like Arlene from Dragon’s Den and although I love her fabulous shoes, I want mono-coloured hair. In any case, I bought these giant bottles of Organix Coconut Milk Shampoo and Conditioner at Costco, and not only do I smell tropical, my hair is also noticeably softer.

047

I love buying gigantic shampoo.

Speaking of Costco, I bought Crest 3D White toothpaste in a pack of four, which is always a risk, as far as I’m concerned. This is the thing about Costco: it’s not the place to shop if you just want to try something out. But I’m glad I took the risk of buying an insane amount of toothpaste because this is the most amazing toothpaste I’ve ever tried. If it’s possible to be in love with my apple peeler, then I’m having a torrid affair with this toothpaste.

036

I’ve already used one of the toothpastes. Costco score!

On Thanksgiving weekend, we visited some friends (hi Sam!) and while having a casual conversation, Sam asked if I had been whitening my teeth. I probably talked a little TOO excitedly about this toothpaste. If you have a coffee/ wine/ grapes habit, you might want to consider this.

teeth

White teeth! I think that’s a book, actually. I’m pretty sure I read it for a book club back in the early 2000’s.

Sexy Ebola Containment Suits

My friend sent me this article today, and the title alone made me literally LAUGH OUT LOUD, no acronyms involved. “The Inevitable Comes To Pass: Of Course A Sexy Ebola Containment Suit Exists”. And of course, upon reading this article I had to find where one buys a Sexy Ebola Containment Suit.

ebola

Go buy one now before they are out of stock! It’s a steal at $59.99. Buy the boots and your partner’s outfit for only $189.99!

Honestly, I’d much rather see one million posts about Sexy Ebola Containment Suits than most things that are in the news these days. Bring it on, weird Halloween costumes. For example, this costume which is clearly Smurfette but there must have been some kind of licensing problem:

trollette

Troll-ette? You are fooling no one, costume website.

Or a Sexy French Fries Costume, because I don’t know about you, but when I hear “French Fries” I think “SEXYTIMES”.

fries

There is also “Sexy Hamburger” and “Sexy Taco” but that makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, so you’ll have to be satisfied with the fries only.

Pretty Leaves

On a more wholesome note, this has been the prettiest fall that I can remember. The colours are gorgeous! It must have been that early-September snow?

049

This dogwood has never looked so pretty!

Fall Food

Fruit leather does not a meal make, so hooray for butternut squash season! I have a fabulous creamy butternut squash soup recipe over at Yummy Mummy Club, plus this very fun, very fast, very easy recipe for Dark Chocolate Raspberry Mousse Trifle. The trifle requires THREE TABLESPOONS of beer, which means you have to drink the rest or allow it to go to waste. Don’t be wasteful! Make this recipe and sip a brewsky while it’s chilling. You can be chilling while it’s chilling! Do people still say “chilling”?

mousse2

You know you want it.

ButternutSquashSoup

A very satisfying soup.

So there you have it! My favourite things – before winter sets in! And as usual, this is not a sponsored post, I didn’t receive anything for free, I just really like all these things! Also as usual, it’s giveaway time! To enter, leave a comment about what your favourite thing is about this time of year and you could win! A random winner will be drawn Friday, November 7. xo

Pumpkin Carving With No Blood Spilled

Posted on by

This week I was looking forward to having coffee on Wednesday morning with my dearest friend; between our clashing schedules this has been in planning stages for five weeks. Tuesday afternoon, Mark came out of the school with a little yellow post-it note in his hand, on which was written “Bring pumpkin carving knives tomorrow, please come Mom.” Apparently his class was pumpkin carving with their buddy class, and volunteers were needed so that no children would lose a digit and/or limb. I was by no means confident that I would be the best person to volunteer for this job, given that the last time I volunteered when sharp objects were utilized was when Mark was in kindergarten and the class was making birdhouses out of milk cartons; I managed to slice my hand open not once but twice during that shift. However, I couldn’t resist Mark and his begging eyes and so I agreed. Also he had already told his teacher that I would surely be able to make it; I cancelled my coffee date and slipped a bottle of Motrin into my purse.

My husband was more than a little alarmed when I told him of my project; he thought I should take his drywall knife, as being the safest object in our house with which to carve pumpkins. I have to say, he’s right. I was able to slice the tops off several pumpkins in short order, with no blood involved. If you have a drywall knife, I highly recommend it for pumpkin carving.

Have you ever walked through a school with a drywall knife in your hand? It’s a pretty uneasy feeling. I had it wrapped in bubble wrap for optics and safety, but I was still pretty nervous about it. What if a kid bumped into me while I was carrying it? What if a child grabbed the knife? So many things could go wrong but luckily none did; plus, it seems like I have to do the same exact thing next week for Jake’s class.

Mark’s buddy class is a kindergarten one, and it’s been a while since I’ve been around five-year-olds. Hoo boy, some of them are sure whiny. One little girl was – to the general alarm of the other members of her group – drawing hard-to-carve things like eyelashes, plus three large circles where the nose was supposed to be. I conferred with their group and helped them cut out the face, using one of those circles as a nose. The little artiste flipped out, saying that I needed to cut the circles on either side of the nose. “Those are her CHEEEEEEEKS,” she whined, “I need her to have cheeks. I WAAAAAAANT CHEEEEEEEEEEEKS.” It was very grating, but I wielded my power as volunteer-mom-with-drywall-knife and acquiesced to the requests of the other four members of the group, which was to leave the pumpkin without giant circles taken out of the face. The whining was bad enough, but the thought of the pumpkin with cut-out cheeks? Creepy as hell.

As if I haven’t had enough of pumpkins, we have our four giant ones to carve this weekend, plus we need to put up all our spooky decorations. Since I’ve already started buying Christmas decorations, and making up this year’s holiday card, and – thanks to my on-the-ball sister-in-law – I’m three-quarters of the way done Christmas shopping…I should probably focus some efforts on Halloween. There isn’t much to do except monitor the mini chocolate bar levels in the pantry – I keep buying them and two young people who are not me keep eating them.

Have you heard about the lady who wrote to “Dear Prudence“, asking her advice on how to handle trick-or-treaters who are not residents of her neighbourhood? This pitiable woman lives on one of the more modest streets in one of the “wealthiest neighbourhoods in the country” (Beverly Hills? Park Avenue? I don’t know.) and she is unhappy with hordes of poor children who do not reside in her neighbourhood trick-or-treating at her house. I mean, is Halloween supposed to be a charitable act? Is she supposed to just provide candy to just anyone? Maybe these errant trick-or-treaters should be frisked and asked to show ID with a current address on it. This poor woman is only in the “doctors, lawyers, and business owner” section of the neighbourhood, not the “billionaires, famous people, and media moguls” section. Those boxes of chocolates can run $10 each, so really, she is in a terrible situation. WHERE IS THE JUSTICE IN HALLOWEEN? She shouldn’t have to give out candy to JUST ANYBODY, least of all those impoverished ruffians. WHAT DOES SHE PAY TAXES FOR IF SHE HAS TO PROVIDE POOR CHILDREN WITH CANDY ON HALLOWEEN, GODDAMMIT?

I bet you anything she does that “Switch Witch” thing.

On a more pleasant note, I was purchasing some lotion at Bath and Body Works, and the fellow at the counter kept calling me Miss. Miss! I felt youthful and full of vigour, until I overheard him talking to his co-worker with regards to some sale signage. “I can’t see clearly, I don’t have my contacts in today.” Well, okay then. I’ll still take it. It’s kind of nice to be viewed in soft-focus, not unlike Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca.

Maintaining cardiovascular health, one asana at a time.

Posted on by

Apparently all one has to do is write about the possible return of Hammerpants in order to witness for oneself the return of Hammerpants. This morning as I was leaving the yoga studio, a young man popped in, holding a skateboard, and wearing wildly-patterned Hammerpants. There you have it, people, proof that truly, everything old is new again. And also that we never learn from our mistakes. For the record, he seemed like a very nice young man, Hammerpants notwithstanding. Don’t judge a book by its cover, etcetera.

But who am I to talk fashion! Look what I bought:

shoes

So pink!

To you, they might just be bright pink running shoes, but to me, they are a symbol of a new era. I last bought running shoes approximately fifteen years ago, and my last cardiovascular workout was approximately ten years ago. I used to be quite devoted to aerobics and spin classes – remember step aerobics? – but then when I was pregnant with Mark I was too worried to continue with them. We bought an elliptical trainer for the basement, and I did use it post-partum to help lose some weight. I got pregnant with Jake when Mark wasn’t quite nine months old, and the workouts stopped soon after. Once Jake was born and I had a colicky baby and a one year old, exercise was pretty much the last thing on my mind. I was lucky to remember to eat anything at all, and pushing a double stroller on snowy sidewalks was enough of a workout, thank you very much.

Fast-forward a couple of years, and I started practicing yoga. Eventually I did a closet purge and my running shoes that had been gathering dust for years went into the donation bin. My husband, however, has been telling me for the past SEVERAL YEARS that he is concerned I do not get enough cardiovascular workouts. The conversations go like this:

Mr: I’m worried you don’t get enough cardio.

Me: I exercise a lot! I do yoga every day!

Mr: That’s not cardio.

*Digression: this isn’t really true, as anyone who has practiced Ashtanga yoga knows. One word: vinyasa. Also, one cannot go into kapotasana without getting the old heart thumping, am I right, fellow Ashtangis? And yet, we’ve had this same exact conversation so many times that I have given up trying to convince my husband that yoga is good for the heart and cardiovascular system.*

044

It’s impossible to do this without getting all sweaty and increasing your heart rate: therefore, it is a cardiovascular workout. Will someone please convince my husband?

 

Me: Well, I walk the dog every day. For at least half an hour. That is cardio.

Mr: Maybe it’s cardio if you’re seventy. I don’t think that’s enough for you. You wear heels when you walk! That’s not a workout.

Me: I only wear one inch heels.

Lather, rinse, repeat this same exact conversation for at least the past five years. Maybe more, I’ve blocked it out. Anyway, last week I realized that my husband worries about me and my heart health, and really, would it be so bad to squeeze one or two turns on the elliptical trainer per week? It certainly wouldn’t hurt. In any case, I needed shoes, and so I bought the above-shown hot pink runners. Then, I got so excited about my pretty new shoes that I briefly entertained the notion of going to spin classes. Those were fun, way back in the late nineties/ early 2000’s. Loud music, group energy – sounds great to me!

I started looking into nearby classes and became immediately discouraged for the following reasons: a) all the classes seem to require special cycling shoes, so I wouldn’t get to wear my pretty pink shoes anyway, b) special cycle shoes are available for rental but wearing shoes that have had someone else’s sweaty feet in them seems gross to me – there’s a reason I don’t like bowling, c) a 45-minute class would take ninety minutes once I factor in travel and sign-in time, d) we have a home gym in our basement for that exact reason – extreme convenience. What is more convenient than one’s own basement?

I did realize something strange when I was looking at one website. It was for a Spin and Hot Yoga Studio, and putting aside my general distaste for hot yoga, I read the “New Student Etiquette” for both spin and yoga classes. It was fairly straightforward – no heavy perfumes, no smelling of alcohol or cigarettes, which is completely reasonable given the sweaty gross atmosphere of a hot yoga class. I would imagine being next to someone stinking of White Diamonds or smoke would be pretty gross in a hot-as-hell room. Then I came across the following rule:

Practicing in your underwear will not be permitted.

I thought about this for a long time. Is this a problem in hot yoga classes? Is this an actual issue that needs to be addressed? I have been practicing yoga at my beloved studio for seven and a half years, and not once have I seen a person practicing in their underwear. Not once. I had visions of very sweaty people in giant granny panties, or maybe a thong. Does this happen? I don’t know. Perhaps they mean sports-bra-like tops? A lot of sweet young things wear those with cute little booty shorts, but I wouldn’t classify that as underwear. It’s a mystery.

Anyway, I concluded that for my little workouts I would be content with our home gym, and Saturday I did actually exercise. I did some interval training that I remembered from lo, so many years ago, and it felt pretty good. I blasted some great 80s music and sang along breathlessly, which made Mark quit his Skylanders game and creep upstairs quietly. Call me! On the line, call me any, any time. Call me!

I told my husband the RPM’s I maintained and the levels I kept with, and he was actually impressed, which just goes to show that Ashtanga yoga and dog walking are actually great at keeping one in cardiovascular shape. I guess I’ll still do a workout once or twice a week, though, because I can’t let such cute shoes go to waste!