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    I'm Janica, a Houston-based portrait photographer, and this is the JBO PHOTO blog. Here, you can check out my recent work, get the scoop on jbo photo sessions, and find out more (probably a LOT more) than you ever wanted to know about the day-to-day adventures of my quirky family.

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Can’t I just work out…please??

Need to gripe.  

As soon as Bailey turned 3 months old, I was thrilled to be able to go to the gym again. I LOVE the time to just crank up my ipod and focus on the misery that is the elliptical machine. It is ME time. Awesome. Necessary. And hey, I hear that there are some sort of health benefits from exercise too. Pretty sweet deal.

Can someone please explain the importance of this tri-weekly ritual to Bailey? She just HATES being in the child watch. At first, it was OK…she would get fussy, I would go nurse her and she would calm back down or go to sleep so I could finish my work out. Recently, however, I am able to get 30 minutes at the very most before they page me. And she’s DONE. With kids out of school for the summer, the child watch is very crowded and I know that Bailey can’t get as much one on one attention…but good golly, can’t they just try a little bit harder to keep her happy??  After a couple weeks of mini-work out sessions, I’d all but given up and took a break for a few weeks. 

This morning, however, I decided that my weekend meals had been particularly indulgent and that I really really needed to get back to the ol’ gym routine. And…my work out today was eleven minutes. Eleven minutes!  It is really not worth the effort. I can’t even listen to my ipod while I’m there anymore because I won’t be able to hear them page me. I know she’s only 6 months old and that she is rather attached to her mommy…I’ve been raising her that way, afterall.  But come on….come oooooooon Bailey…can I just have my one hour a few times a week? Prettiest of pleases? 

I’ve tried to go when I know that she is well rested, well fed, and happy to no avail. I’ve sent along various toys, sippy cups, amusements… Nothing. She doesn’t take a pacifier (oh how I wish, at times, that she would take a pacifier!). She hates the swing/exersaucer/whathaveyou. She just crys. And they just page. Sigh. 

Not really looking for advice, because I think I know that it just is what it is. I’m just feeling particularly selfish. And whiney. And flabby. 

So there. 

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