Bad Mom Hits the Gym

My husband and I are musicians. And we’re parents. Our “backstage” experiences with our son (our little frog) deeply affect who we are. Recent insights:

The Storm of the Century is beginning to rage in Boston. We hear snow plows clanking down the street, and there's only an inch of snow so far.

I thought I'd fit a YMCA workout in before we all became housebound for a day or two. We'd already picked up some groceries, including ONE gallon of milk (though some of our shopping comrades had many gallons in their carts. Huh? Doomsday preppers...)

My son got to do a 45-minute little kid Track and Field class. And then I dropped him off at the babysitting room at the YMCA Kid Zone for my turn. Son was NOT delighted.

When I came back to pick him up, he showed me the art he had made. I told him I liked the colors a lot... and that I think it's so great he is expressing himself with his art. How amazing that he is teaching himself to write things like this!

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