Firsts...and other things that never change.

So while Donna was at the local grocery store yesterday, being traumatized by some poor creature's "smelling like ass" perfume, I was home plotting today's activities.

When I realized that today was the first day of summer camp for my kids, I decided that it was time for me to get back into somewhat of a routine as well. I delivered my three youngest to their proper destination this morning and then walked into the fitness center and signed myself up. Working out is not something I've ever done. Unless you include the month or so of Pilates classes I attended before the bottom fell out of my life. The last several months have been quite shaky for me -- full of ups and downs. Little by little I've crawled out of the hole and, with the help of many friends, have begun to patch up that horrible bottom. Today felt like a good "first"...the first of many days to come and I figured I might as well try to look my best -- and therefore, feel my best -- while I hit that particular road.

So off I went, paid the fee for the first month...and then stopped in my tracks. Where would I start? This place may as well have been some foreign land where I didn't speak the language. Should I take the machine next to the woman in her mid 60s? I thought that certainly I could look cool working out next to her. How much of a hard-ass could she be? But then she turned around and I realized that her ass was literally in much better shape than mine. Another look around proved inviting. There was a man, easily 70, preparing to hit the tread mill. Of course I could not look ridiculous next to him. While I admired his willingness to get up and at 'em, I felt absolutely sure this was my spot.

I got my iPod ready, put the ever present Blackberry in it's little perch on the machine's magazine rack, cracked a bottle of ice cold H2O and I was ready to roll. Or so I thought. This AARP card carrying senior citizen kicked my ass. I mean this guy could RUN. I did my best for 45 minutes or so...not a fast paced run...just a nice, steady good jog that produced a good sweat and a respectable rise in my heart rate. Giving up was not a option at first, but eventually I did...I didn't want the old guy's ego to swell too much.

Next on the agenda? The beach. It's a beautiful day here in LB -- 85 and full on sun. I took my three youngest plus a couple of bonus kids down for the afternoon. Our Long Beach lake front is stunning and I thought the kids would love a day spent hanging out with their friends. Now when I was a kid, a day at the beach was a treat. For sure not something we did very often. And the local pool? It always smelled funky and was filled with odd children who most likely ran with scissors and never learned to play well with others. But today I noticed some distinct similarities between my childhood and those of my kids and their friends.

As I looked along the lakefront I noticed kids skipping stones, playing on rafts, digging for water (as in digging to China for water), building sandcastles complete with twigs and leaves meant to be the trees surrounding the moat they'd built. I watched a friend teach my group of kids the proper body surfing technique -- the looks on their faces and the sound of their laughing was priceless. I fed them peanut butter sandwiches with chips and bottles of water...and turned a blind eye when their fingers got sticky with melting Twizzlers.

This is what their summer and mine should be about. Firsts...and lots of other things that never change.