Today was supposed to be the Day The Whole Family Went For A Run. I was supposed to take Sweet Pea in the BOB stroller for a jog with a girlfriend, which has become a Monday morning tradition lately. I think we’ve done it twice… Yes, I use the term “tradition” loosely.  But my friend bailed last night and then Dan suggested the three of us go for the 30 minute jaunt. I was so excited! And not just for the chance to get someone else to push the stroller for at least part of the way. Dan comes out of retirement maybe once per quarter, so it’s a big deal when I get to run with him. The first time it happened, about two years into our relationship, I was so excited I tried to hold hands with him while we ran. He humored me for a few steps. Note, we weren’t married yet at that time. I don’t think I could get away with that now. Anyway, it interfered with our gait patterns, so it’s probably just as well that it didn’t work out. Although I would totally be down for it if he were. Does that mean I am not serious runner?  Nah… Probably it’s a combination of my sweet tooth and the fact that I have yet to run a sub 22 minute 5k or qualify for Boston that keeps me from being a serious runner.

In our excitement to start the day by running together, Dan and I slept as late as Sweet Pea would let us (about 7:20), if you count nursing while dozing in bed as sleeping, which I generally do. At least that’s what I was doing from about 6:40 on. Dan was legit sleeping, and I am really trying to stop being jealous about that. On second thought, maybe nursing horizontally isn’t really sleeping… 

At 7:30 I stepped out the door to find it was raining.  I didn’t feel like taking the baby out in the rain, and Dan isn’t exactly a die hard runner, so we bagged it, much to my disappointment. I switched gears and decided to do a short trainer workout in the basement. I hopped on the bike and spun easy for 30 minutes while watching an episode of Season Two of Mad Men on Netflix. I am so into that show…

I googled January Jones (one of the show’s stars, in case, like me, you have no idea who most celebrities are) a couple months ago and the top search results were all about how she ate her placenta.  Really? Who cares what she did with her placenta? Am I getting a little defensive about this because I had my placenta encapsulated and took the pills like vitamins for the first couple weeks after Sweet Pea was born? Yeah, probably.

Did you know that humans are the only mammals who don’t eat their placenta? My brother said this is because in the wild, the scent of a placenta will attract predators. That wouldn’t apply to modern women, but here was my rationale: It cost less than $100 to have it encapsulated. The gal who did it picked it up and dropped it off, and she even included complimentary placenta art. (I think she dipped it in ink, then stamped it on a piece of paper so it looks like a tree. I’m still not sure what to do with that piece of paper). The pills smelled like a zoo but I just swallowed them real fast with juice and tried not to breathe at all. I had no post-partum issues with depression, mood swings,  (no more than usual), fatigue, breastfeeding, anything. While I can’t say it’s definitely because of the placenta pills, I know they couldn’t have hurt, and for less than $100, why not? I guess the argument against it is, “It’s gross.” That doesn’t hold much weight with me. I scrape, shake, and/or swoosh poop off cloth diapers into the toilet every day. One of my husband’s favorite hobbies is keeping worms. Even more “gross,” I work in a hospital, and I won’t begin to get into the details of that. Suffice it to say, when I come home and say to Dan, “Want to hear something disgusting?” he has learned to say, “No thanks.” Would you consume your placenta? Have you? What did you think?

But I digress… After my spin on the trainer, Dan had to start working, so I entertained Sweet Pea by giving her a few toys and letting her watch me do some core work, push-ups, and tricep dips, which I do off of the coffee table. You don’t need a lot of equipment to work out at home. I make an effort to count out loud while I do these things, for Sweet Pea’s benefit. Hopefully she won’t grow up thinking you have to be out of breath and miserable whenever you say your numbers.