Make time to exercise? When?

Last night I set my clock for 6:00 a.m. in the hopes I'd spring out of bed, throw on some workout clothes, and go for a walk. When 6:00 a.m happened, though, I hit the alarm immediately and slept until 7:20. Ooops. I usually leave for work at 7:30.

So all day long I beat myself up for my lack of self-discipline but promised myself I'd take the time this evening with my hard earned Wii Fit. (For those of you who don't know - we had a Wii for a while. Then I sold it to a friend because we never used it. Then I had an ephinany - I could lose weight by using Wii Fit. Now only to convice my wonderful hubby to buy me another. Which he did. And which has been used twice since that time. )

I got off work at 5:05, headed to Publix for some quick meal ideas, picked up my sweet boy at daycare, and finally made it home a little after 6:00. Bills had not been paid this month because of our vacation time. Finally finished paying bills around 7:00. Then started dinner - a gourmet meal of Hamburger Helper. While dinner was cooking, I played with John Lewis and emptied the dishwasher. Then we ate, gave the baby a bath, watched The Wonder Pets (What's going to work? Teamwork!) put him to bed, and loaded the dishwasher. Ironed my clothes for the following day and looked at the time: 9:15.

Who wants to work out at 9:15? Not me. I'm sure there are very dedicated people who don't sleep well until they have exerted physical energy. I'm the kind that doesn't sleep no matter what. Plus I had a new book to read. So again, I postponed any physical activity until tomorrow. If I were a betting woman, I'd say tomorrow looks the same as today.

I need a kick in the rear. I can't keep getting disappointed because I'm getting bigger by the moment if I don't commit to some kind of exercise. Anyone have any pointers?

Time for bed. Again. I go to bed many times but don't really fall asleep until 12:00 or so. Maybe I should work out then? Too tired.

Confusion

Can't really understand why I think anyone else would choose to read about my mundane life. But funny things happen to us all, and sometimes grief strikes the best of us. No grief at this moment, thank goodness. Instead a celebration - my dad is officially cured of cancer. Five long years of chemo, radiation, surgeries, and lots of complications have gotten him and my mother to this point.

A couple of weeks ago I complained about my last birthday spent sick as a dog in Greenville. Away from my family and wanting to die. And having to share my sympathy with millions of Michael Jackson grieving fans. I whined and moaned this was the worst birthday ever.

But I had forgotten my worst birthday ever. Two days before my birthday in June 2004, my parents called to tell me they could not come see me in Greenville after all because my father had been diagnosed with Stage IV bladder cancer. Being a somewhat intelligent person, I knew what that meant. As an outsider. But as a daughter of a daddy's girl, this news did me in. My father suffered through surgeries, chemo, radiation, post-op complications, and the like, and never complianed (in my earshot) about the fate life had dealt him. There was no talk of death because we all knew, with no doubt, he would beat this awful disease. And five years later, he is officially pronounced cured. So despite a raging sinus infection that had me begging my husband to put me out of my misery, I knew something else big was happening. My dad was cured and would be there to continue his ministry, and to continue being my mother's best friend, and to continue being my daddy. So after all my whining and moaning, this last birhtday proved to be the best I've ever had. I still have my father, and that's the best gift I could have ever imagined.

This is a few days late. I want my parents to know who proud I am of them. I want my mother to know how grateful I am that she is the kind of person who takes the bad, prays about it, and good things come of it. I want my dad to know I am inspired by his fight and hope to have his strength if ever confronted with such an illness. I love you both so much and wish my grandmother could be here to share our glorious news.

First Day of FIrst Family Vacation

We finally made it to the beach despite the best efforts of the devil woman inside our GPS system who was hell bent on delivering us to undeveloped land on Pawley's Island. So we had to rely on our noggins and finally found our place at Litchfield. This first family vacation will be amazing - or an experiment in terror. Two year olds seem to both loathe and love change so we're throwing everything out to John Lewis and hope we all make it back alive.

Scott was the responsibles one tonight. Packed, unpacked the car - it's as if we were moving in forever, not a four day weekend. Regardless we packed the right stuff - diapers, swim diapers, my mumu tent that poses as a bathing suit and groceries. Scott put the baby down while mommy focused on the important things - adult beverages and making sure we have free internet access. Hope to talk lots of pictures tomorrow to post so we can all remember this trip (experiment in terror.)

Realized my Spanx do nothing for the bathing suit issue. Yes, they suck my gut in but how do I hide the leggings part? Act as if they were part of the suit? Only wear workout pants over? Or just let everything hang out in all it's glory?

Regardless we are here. Can't wait to enjoy a few days with my boys. Also hope to see our old friends, the Greenes, who are here at the same time. I've warned them that we don't look like we used to - it's as if we ate our former selves. Oh, well. Will worry about dieting tomorrow.

Ambien is kicking in, should make me sleep like the dead for a couple of hours. Will check back in tomorrow. Until then . . .