I recently signed up with a new Dr. I’ve been here in New York for almost two years and after getting sick (yes, I know welcome to the first year of motherhood) and not being able to get an appointment for some much needed antibiotics (there were large spots on the back of my throat), I figured it was time.

My physical went well, nothing too major thankfully. However, I had an interesting conversation with my Dr, who as well as general practitioner and cardiac specialist, is also a Mother of three. We were discussing exercise and how I have yet to figure out where to fit it back into my schedule… to which she responded, ‘Hah, you’re basically f*!$d – whatever you do you’ll feel guilty about it.’ I loved the dichotomy of Dr and Mother speaking – she knew what she was supposed to recommend, but also knew that telling a working Mother that she ought to exercise more was crazy.

That was a few weeks ago, and I still haven’t worked out (pardon the pun) how to work out. “When she starts sleeping better” is my current mantra for putting it off a little longer.