The dreaded "E" word. Yes, I'm talking "exercise". You know, it just stresses me out. I'm already stressed out about the health of the kids (let's see, we've had vomiting, diarrhea, and now we appear to have green-snot-noses with a promise of sore throats on the horizon, all within the past three weeks). I'm stressed out about the fact that my toddler hates his preschool. I'm stressed that I can't keep up correspondence with all the friends and family I adore. I'm stressed about money and time and WILL MY BRAIN EVER RETURN??? I'm stressed that I'm stressing too much.

So, to have emails from various listservs pop up (undoubtedly in the wake of New Year resolutions) extolling the virtues of Exercise and suggesting Helpful Hints to Ease Into Exercise, well, it makes me stressy. And snappish.

Bloody hell, do I have to worry about THAT, too?

Sigh. I know. I know I need to get out there, get the bod moving, get back into action and all that rot. Got it. But when the ParentCenter email reads "Tip: Put your child into the stroller just before naptime and get going. By the time you come home, your child will probably be asleep, and you'll have had your fresh-air exercise for the day." I want to reach through the computer to that silly little author and rip her manicured fingertips off. (Come on, you KNOW she's freshly manicured).

Apparently other mothers have had the same reaction, because the author's tagline reads only "Babycenter Editorial Staff" . So, let's review, shall we? You want me to take my tired cranky twins and toss them in the stroller, then exhaust myself by going for a walk (I can't even imagine running, so I won't bother putting it down as an option), and when I return home I am to do , what, exactly, with the now sleeping-beauties? Leave them to nap in the garage? Perhaps cover them with a tarp out in the driveway until they rouse themselves? Park them beside a space heater on the front porch? Because I guarantee you, if you try to pull one of those limp, deeply sleeping bodies out of that stroller, a beastie will rise up, a screaming, squalling beastie, kicking and purple with rage that you have disturbed her sleep. And tho' you may rock her, and cuddle her and coddle her, offer her bottles and juice and a favorite stuffed kitty - THERE WILL BE NO MORE SLEEP FOR HER. SHE HAS HAD A NAP. SHE IS DONE.
And that means, no nap for Mama.
And just where do you think she inherited the screaming beastie from, hmmm?

I rest my case (and my ass). There will be no stroller exercise for me. Too stressful, don't you know.