Pilates, baby edition

I was a big pilates fan back before I met Dan, and it's one of those things I go back to now and then when I'm feeling motivated. Well, I've been feeling mighty motivated lately, so I've been using my morning time with Abby to do the quick version of the video I used to watch. 'Course it becomes a whole 'nuther experience when Abby decides this is just the most hilarious thing she's ever seen and she just has to get involved.

I lie down to do the first exercise--the 100, which you do flat on your back with your legs straight up in the air--and suddenly I'm Abby's speed bump for her to walk on.

I move on to the roll-up, which starts flat on the back and involves slowly sitting up and reaching for your toes and then slowly going back to your back, all without bending your legs or lifting them off the floor. Abby sits at my feet, and instead of reaching for my toes, I reach for that tubby baby belly and thighs and tickle her, and she laughs that wonderful baby laugh that motivates me to do just one more...

Then on to the leg lifts where you lie flat back and trace capital D's in the air with your toes, but I'm tracing some funky cursive letters trying to avoid kicking Abby in the head as she steps over the leg that is still on the floor.

She finally tires of me and my leg-waving shenanigans and takes off for the other end of the room, so I manage to squeeze in the rest of the exercises on my back without any issues. But then I roll to my side for the "side leg series" (my favorite part of the Windsor pilates exercise videos--can I get an Amen from anyone who's tried it?) and it's a new game for Abby. She's grabbing my leg and "petting" my hair and flopping herself over my body while I try to count out leg lifts. I'm working out muscles I didn't know I had trying to keep my balance and (again) not kick Abby in the head (which works most of the time).

And by the time I'm finally done, my t-shirt is soaked, not in sweat but baby drool, my hair is a ratty mess from little hands playing beauty salon, and the stomach and butt muscles I haven't felt in a year and a half are screaming their names. Rather than the ten minutes it used to take, it's a twenty-minute (at least) endeavor. But I'm just going to assume those extra minutes of rolling on the floor with a giggly wiggly Abby are burning some calories, too.

She kissed me!

Oh how cute. Last night she started head-butting our lips when we puckered up, and this morning she started "kissing" my knee (of all things) with those great baby lip-presses.

I can't wait till she knows just what all those kisses (and toe-nibbles and raspberries and exclamations of "Oh my goodness I could just eat you up!") mean...

Taking Peek-a-boo to the next level

Dan and I were outside the other day, finally taking down the Easy-Up that's been in our backyard since July. We'd corralled Abby in the family room with a complicated configuration of furniture while we tackled the task, and about fifteen minutes later we were back inside, discussing how to handle the tree full of bees we discovered outside our dining room window. (It's never good when the sound of their buzzing is so loud it sounds like someone's a/c unit working overtime.)

So I'm in the kitchen washing my hands when I hear Dan say, "Do you have Abby?"

"No, she's in the family room still."

"Um...no she's not."

Panic.

I'm racing around the ground floor, which takes all of 1.6 seconds since our place is just not that big, and nope, she's not in the family room, or under the dining room table, or in her fortress, which is the living room all fences off and chock-full of her toys. I'm about the check the utility room and garage when I hear, "Well hi there, sweetie!" I follow Dan's voice UPSTAIRS.

Yes, she traversed the entire staircase alone: 13 steps, including a rather large landing and a 90 degree corner. Images of her tumbling like a slinky splatter themselves all over my brain, and Dan looks like he's seen a ghost he's so pale from nerves.

Abby, on the other hand, looks like she just conquered Everest, the stinker. She's so proud of herself, you can just tell. We, on the other hand, are looking for asprin to head off the heart attacks we think we might be about to have.

But at least we know she knows how to climb stairs. For what that's worth.