Gym, take 2.

Heeeeelllooo guns of steel

A few days ago I wrote about my love affair with soup. The title really should have read "My Love Affair with Pizza." I know it sounds silly, but hips don't lie, people. It doesn't help that my diet consists of mac and cheese (only the spiral kind, please) chicken fingers, Cheerios, peanut butter and fluff, Dunkin Donuts lattes, and yes... pizza. I mean, my last blog was about a pizzeria for Pete's sake. The inevitable has happened... it's almost March which means Spring is right around the corner, and thanks to the bathing suit display that welcomed me at my weekly trip to Target, I find myself feeling a wee bit anxious. I just barely took down my Christmas decorations a couple weeks ago, and they're already pushing BBQ equipment and sand buckets down our throats.

Anyway, after my Target binge, I took the boys to the beloved gym. I have been using all kinds of reasons why I stopped going a few months back, but in all honestly, maaaaan, I am just so damn tired! My days go like this:

• Roll (literally) out of bed.
• Stumble towards my trusty Keurig.
• Cook, clean, do laundry, pay bills, food shop, run errands, entertain children, prevent said children from falling off furniture, watch 345 episodes of Max and Ruby, clean up numerous forms of bodily and non-bodily fluids, read for 20 minutes a day just like Nick Jr. tells me, make sure all animals are cared for... (that's just the first half of the day before Ollie's nap time)
• Re-visit trusty Keurig.
• And finally... go to my other job, which requires a perky personality and 6 to 7 hours of standing on my feet.

I am not complaining by any means, I knew raising two kids was not going to be a cakewalk, but the time has come (yet again) for me to do a lil somethin somethin for myself. So, I went to the gym to sweat it out and I feel great! It gave me energy to get through the usually hectic dinner, baths, and night time routine. I remember when I was going regularly last summer, it felt so good to be doing something for myself... just one hour a day of not having to be Super-Mommy. My clothes fit better, I had more energy, and felt more confidant than ever. I long to feel that way again. I know I am not fat by any means, but I'm sure all mothers can relate when I say it's an internal desire to feel better about yourself, as well as the obvious benefits of looking better.

Pics to come as soon as I get the nerve to show the Before photo. :)