Don't Mess with the Wo-man

So I belong to Female Fitness, a women's only gym in my town.

It's great because you don't have to listen to men sounding like they're herniating themselves with the free weights.  And you don't have to feel self-conscious about looking like three shades of shit before, during and after a workout, as I tend to.

The only males that frequent the place are usually pre-school age and heading for the baby-sitting room.  Rare is the moment when a man enters, and then it's usually only to check on the plumbing or air conditioning.  They carry a tool box, are escorted by one of the associates and keep their heads down.

Last week, however, a man -- a dad-and-husband-type man -- was standing in the middle of the gym, looking around.  Appreciatively.  Which his wife didn't seem to appreciate.

Wife: "This is a women's only gym."
Man: "Okay."
Wife: "So... you have to leave!"
Man, continuing to take in the view: "It's not illegal for me to be here."
Wife: "Just GET OUT!"

Not one other club member took pause or even gave their exchange a first glance, nevermind a raised eyebrow.  You know why?  If Chuck E. Cheese is where a kid can be a kid, then a women's-only gym is where a woman can be a woman.  We're not waiting on anybody, we're not cleaning something, we're not soothing somebody.  And we're definitely NOT on display trying to impress anybody!

Which reminds me: the dude that was crackin' wise about my Zumba ability?  I have to go lay down the law with that 4-year-old.

The Next Dimension

I've been hearing commercials about 3D television.

Mind you, I hadn't actually seen the commercials.  I kind of caught the commercials while hauling a load of laundry or a Costco order through the living room while the kids were meaningfully engaged in an episode of "Family Guy."

But the commercials sounded cool.

Last night, though, I actually saw a commercial for this great new technology.  And can I just say, this has Classic Salfino Family Throwdown written all over it!  I'm watching the commercial and there's a group of kids having a rollicking good time wearing their 3D GLASSES!!

Now, of course 3D glasses make sense.  You can't go see "Toy Story 3D" without 'em, right?

But my first thought seeing those glasses was, HELLO!  We lose the REMOTE every day in this house.  Can you imagine that mess?

CARA: Where's the remote?!
ME, yelling from another room: In between the sofa cushions!
CARA: WAIT, Ryan!  Those are MY 3D glasses.  I know they're mine because I put pink nailpolish on the tip.
RYAN: Yeah, well, I just licked them, so....
ME & CARA: #%$!*@*!

Nah, for the sake of family togetherness and sanity, I think we'll be skipping that 3D experience.

Back in black

I took a good long break from blogging for a number of reasons:

1) Mike suspended Rotoaction.com, to which my blog was linked.

2) My older brother died in May 2008 and the ensuing grief made it hard to get out of bed, nevermind find humor in everyday life.

3) As my kids got older, I had to work harder to make money the old fashioned way: taking it from their wallets.

Actually, I don't take from my kids' wallets.  I borrow and forget to give it back.  HAHAHA, kids!

But I've decided that a lot has happened in the two years since I've posted on here.  And as much as I'd like to comment on the sad state of affairs that are our affairs of State, I'll refrain.  You see, I need to put all my brain power into coming up with a new title for this here blog.

My kids are more self-sufficient, so I don't have to take them out or keep them occupied every Sunday during the NFL football season.  That was the original inspiration for the blog:  Mike HAD to watch the games in peace, so it fell to me to get them out of his hair.

Now, Cara ("I think if you just slide food under my door I could live in my room for weeks") only leaves the house under pain of death or for a trip to the mall.  Ryan considers staying home some form of torture.  And Mike can bang out articles for the Wall St. Journal or SNY or whoever even if Ryan has friends over playing Xbox.  So... we're evolving.  The Football Widow moniker doesn't fit as well.

I'm thinking a new Blogger title could be: My Mid-Life Crisis -- an account of my daily routine.