This is my couch. This was the first piece of furniture that Mr. Monkey and I bought together. I remember we both wandered around the furniture store, secretly loving the orange couch but unsure whether it was too much to dream that such a love could be shared by the other person.
It wasn’t too much to dream, as it turns out, and we have now happily lived with this couch for over 4 years, three houses and two states. The couch is good and comfortable and, for me, has a gravitational pull that exceeds any other piece of furniture in the house.
I work out at nights, mostly to avoid the heat and because I despise waking up early. On most days, I leave the house by 7:45am and get home just before 5pm. My getting home seems to be one of the emotional highlights of the day for the baby monkey and there is much squealing and hugging and desperately clinging to me as I try to change my clothes and go to the bathroom- I am sure one of the real joys in my husband’s day is when he gets to hold the baby in the bathroom so he (the baby) can watch me pee. If Mr. Monkey doesn’t hold Miles he will literally cling to my leg and frantically try to climb into my lap, something not so helpful to the peeing process.
After the “reunited and it feels so good” phase of the evening there is dinner to be made, a baby to be fed and bathed and it is usually at least 7pm before I can head out to do a workout… and that is when the couch becomes a factor.
I’m realizing that the second my butt hits that couch it becomes about 50% harder to leave the house to go work out. If I get even slightly horizontal the difficulty rate rises to 90%. God help me if I get fully horizontal and there is a magazine in my hand. I’m just tired and I want to decompress.
I’m not complaining about the busyness of my day or about the childcare stuff (I assure you that my husband who is a primarily a stay at home dad for right now, does the vast majority of the work where the baby is concerned). Busy is just par for the course right now and I know that it isn’t going to get any easier come the fall when my work life is going to be really intense.
A few weeks ago the Ironman was on TV (sniff, always makes me cry) and while I always admire the tenacity it takes to do that event, now that I’ve started my (minor in consideration) training schedule, I marvel at how much time it must take to get ready for an Ironman and the dedication it takes to carve that time out.
They must have much less comfy couches than I do.