Exercising with Spills

So, I have just begun my post-Portuguese penance (all those sardines are still swimming around my tum). I put on an exercise DVD this evening, and foolishly asked Spilly if she'd like to join in.

She started well, gamely doing the walking and side-stepping and knee-raises beside me.

"Am I doing it right, Mommy?"

"You're doing great!" I said, trying not to walk on top of her.

"But I should take off my socks."

"Sure."

Once she had taken them off, she walked some more. Until: "I think I'm going to take my shirt off now."

"Why do you need to take your shirt off?"

"So I can just have my undershirt like those ladies."

It was true that the ladies all looked like they were wearing their undershirts.

"Well...all right," I said. Then a minute later, when the shirt was stuck half-on and half-off her head, I had to undo the button at the back, while still trying to march to the beat and swing my arms around.

Once properly attired, she did the steps for a moment longer. Then she noticed her yellow balloon (mine, actually, from my birthday a few weeks ago). She marched over, grabbed it, and began throwing it at me. She found this fun until, after the ninetieth time of telling her to stop, I got frustrated.

This led to her sobbing, "I'm going to go and live at Robbie's house!"

"Okay, see you," I said, still trying to do my kicks to the beat.

She sat on the stairs after that, muttering things. Then, she returned. More specifically, she sulked her way across the room in front of the TV screen, and threw herself into the armchair. And hurt her hand. And was comforted. And discovered the pillows.

"Mommy, I'm going to put the pillows under your feet so it will be soft for you."

"No," I said, doing double side-steps. "I don't want pillows under my feet."

"I'm going to do it!"

"No thank you."

"Why not?"

"Because I would lose my balance on them and fall down, and it would hurt."

"You wouldn't," she said. "See?" And she stepped on one of the pillows, lost her balance, and fell down.

After that, she began concentrating on my arms, which she felt were doing the wrong things. She began rearranging them for me. Then she got behind me and did the moves in the most obtrusive place possible. Following which, she tried to attach the yellow balloon to the TV so I couldn't see the screen.

....All of which, I realize, was a not-so-subtle reminder that my kid, who is just coming off a week of non-stop Mommy, is starved for a bit of parental interaction and willing to risk parental fury to get it.

Fortunately, the DVD finally ended, and we played "Mom's going to pop the balloon, so you'd better run."

This exercise thing is going to be an uphill battle.