I'm in kind of a blogging funk these days, and even though it rains all the time here, it's definitely not raining ideas. Truth is that I have less time to blog than last year because I'm spending most of my afternoons cajoling, threatening to cut off Messenger access, and bribing with DS time to get my kids to do their homework. And the little time that's left I spend at my fitness class. That's what keeps me from going entirely insane after sitting with Princess V as she whines her way through endless long division problems.
This year the promise of buns of steel is a real possibility because our marvelous Russian girl has returned. No more elephant boy, no more cheerleader girl. Just our fabulous Russian girl, who gives the best aerobics and step classes I've ever had (and I've had a lot). And even better, with practice (and a lot of patience on her part) we're looking a lot less like dizzy ducks...but we are far away from ever looking as good as she does. But hey, everybody has to have a dream, so I keep on going and hope that someday I'll have half as much style as she does (pretty much a hopeless cause because she has rhythm coming out of every pore, and all I have is sweat). Sweat's good though, so I come home dead tired, but happy, and my blogger butt is starting to melt away. Now if only I could find a way to look a little less silly when we do funk aerobics...maybe if I just hang out at the back...nah, I can still see myself in the mirror...and so can everybody else. Well, at least they look equally embarrassed so at least we're all in this together. And it could be worse, at least we don't look like this:
Thank God the 80s are gone...hopefully forever. And if you want to see who's really too sexy for his shirt, then shake your booty on over here. Well, maybe sexy isn't the right word, but funny...there's plenty of that.