7 Quick Takes Friday!

Over at her place, Jen is talking about how squats are impossible. Not like they’re hard, but like, they are completely at odds with the laws of gravity.

“If you move into a position like you’re sitting on a chair without actually having a chair behind you, you will FALL DOWN. This is not my opinion; it’s the opinion of the LAW OF GRAVITY.”

All I can add is, a-t0-the-freaking-MEN. In my video ~~torture~~ workout of choice, the peppy cheerleader is constantly reminding me to “keep your knees behind your toes to keep your knees safe, and sit into those heels!” With lunges, no problem. I get it. I can get down on a lunge with my knee behind my toes. I got that shiz.

But then we move to squats and I’m like, “Lindsay, that’s physically impossible. Either my knees are going to shoot way out in front of my toes, or I’m going to fall down, or I’m going to settle for the least painful option and do a sort of centimeter-deep bob and use this time to catch my breath and curse you.”

wheatgrass — “After this, let’s have everybody stick their butts up in the air and tell them that it’s called “Downward Facing Dog!” I bet we could make them hold that position for ten minutes. Or long enough to put it on Youtube, at least.”

I’m with you, Jen. Squats are a conspiracy perpetrated by bored health and fitness gurus who probably just want to see how many ridiculous and physically impossible contortions they can get us to try before we realize that they’re totally messing with us and laughing about it over wheatgrass shots.

The perpetuity of The Great Squat Hoax can only mean one thing: we are dumb.

Did you guys read Jen Hatmaker’s “Worst End of School Year Mom Ever” post? You must. It’s hysterical. And I am SO right there with her, but I only have one in school.

I kept sending Sienna to school in sneakers last week because her school shoes fell apart and no way was I going to buy a new pair with 10 days left. Then I got a verbal spanking for it in the Monday Mailer and had to send her in church shoes and let her take the sneakers to change into for recess and gym. But the talent shows and the singing stuff and the stuff and the junk….it’s over! It’s over, teachers! Give it up! We’ll give you better presents if you have nothing but recess for the next week! Pleeeease, let it goooooooooo….

Yeah, Sienna’s school is having a talent show, for which they gave us 10 days’ notice.

Of course, since my child loves the spotlight and is the joiniest of joiners, she was dying to be in it. I kept saying, “but Sienna, what are you going to do?”

She was all,

Martha came over to hang out yesterday (and she brought a delicious salad and cherries and wine and her baby who is so beyond adorable that I’m drawing up paperwork for an arranged marriage between her and Lincoln), and when Sienna got home and we started the Great Talent Show Debate again, Martha was like, “so why not just let her do it?”

“Because…because…..because everyone else will have a routine and she’s just going to get up there and do a series of random dance moves and she doesn’t even want to have music to go with it! She’s going to be embarrassed!”

Martha said, “so, the worst thing that could happen is that she’d be embarrassed. It’s not the end of the world. If she wants to do it so badly, just let her.”

I was all

It was so sensible that I didn’t really know how to respond. The Ogre and I talked it over later and I told him that I thought Martha was right, but he was like

He pointed out that since Sienna didn’t actually even know what a talent show was, we wouldn’t just be allowing her to embarrass herself, we would be allowing her to set herself up for embarrassment, and that would be pretty crappy.

So we told her no, but promised that we would take her to see it so she would understand what it was like, and she could work on a talent over the year and be in it next May.

She responded with more interpretive dance

Go and see Jen for more quick takes! I’m taking the weekend off, so I’ll see y’all on Monday!