...Is that so much to ask? In the weeks running up to Christmas, like most of the country, we had one cold after another. As a result I didn't get to the gym or an exercise class very often.. Maybe once or twice.. Either Ethan was too ill to go in the crèche, or I was too ill, or we'd been up most of the night. I pay for my membership monthly so it's always annoying when you don't use something you've paid for. Anyway, getting back into January, I was ready for some exercise.. we get back into the swing of things for a couple of weeks, then last week we were stuck in with colds again. Grrrrrrrrrr. So, last week, all of us being back to health again, I was itching to get into an exercise class, work up some sweat and enjoy those endorphines. On Wednesday morning, I got myself dressed in my work out clothes, and started thinking about how good I was going to feel post exercise class. Ahhhh. And I'd be able to have that cookie later in the day and not feel bad about it! Yes! (that's the best bit, lets face it!).
Right. It's 10:00AM. It's time to leave. Grab Ethan, get his coat on, plonk him in the buggy, push him out the door... ummm.. PUSH HIM OUT THE DOOR. What is this? SERIOUSLY WHAT THE SOD IS THIS? The back righthand wheel is literally hanging off. Oh flipping great. A massive puncture? I suppose that massive bramble that got stuck in the wheel the day before was to blame. That's it. All that prep and psyching myself up for nothing. Can't walk there with Ethan, the class would nearly be over by the time we'd get there (you know how toddlers like to dordle and examine EVERY SINGLE THING). Poo. Big smelly nappy loads of poo. Nothing is ever simple when you're a parent, is it?
Sigh. There really are some days that are sent to try us. The irony is that I ended up eating more cookies due to feeling irritated than I would if I'd gone to by class and felt good about myself.