A Guilty Pleasure

Yesterday I took advantage of August and Brent being out of the house to go for a long (embarrassingly in this case, “long” = 4.5 miles) run.  For the first time ever I decided to give Brent’s little Ipood (nope, not a typo, I prefer that spelling) a chance.  He already had a few music playlists on there, so I grabbed my headphones and headed out the door.  It was nice listening to music as I ran.  Last time I had gone for a run without August I was actually a little bored.  I had no one singing to me, no one to reading “I Spy” to me, and no one to ask me “What are you doing Mommy?” every five minutes.  So I welcomed the music as a distraction.

Today, it’s Monday, so a run without August is not an option (unless I leave him during his nap, which might get me arrested).  I thought I would give the Ipood another chance and see what it’s like to run, basically ignore August, and listen to music.  I have to admit, it wasn’t bad.  In fact, I kind of liked it.  I heard him occasionally say something, and I was able to respond correctly to a few of his comments, but most of them I was not able to hear.  I did try to find the volume button, but I’m not sure there is one?

Anyhow, we finished, and it is with great guilt that I admit I enjoyed the music.  I feel a bit like a lemming, joining the ranks of parents who ignore their children while pushing (or running) a stroller.  I’m not sure I’ll do it all the time, but it’s nice to have as a back-up on those days when the questions are more than every five minutes.

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