Motivation

I am still on a quest to get into a regular workout schedule. I don't know why I have this delusion that anything in my life can be "regular" anymore, but just play along...let's keep my hopes and dreams alive just a bit longer before smashing them to the floor and watching the shattered pieces scatter. Too dramatic?

Anyway, working out. It is very difficult to fit this activity into this new baby-filled schedule we now have. It could be argued that I manage to fit in dinners and dunk tank parties with friends so how can I claim I don't have time for working out. That could be argued. But the person presenting that point best be armed with some fantastic protective gear. Because I may severely maim anyone speaking such foolish things. I should give up those things for working out? I'm all about being fit, but come on. There are just some things people should not be forced to go on without. Dunk tank parties are definitely one of them.

Have I mentioned we had a dunk tank party? A party that revolved around a dunk tank in our back yard. We did. It kicked ass.

So Sunday morning, we all decide to go to breakfast at one of our favorite places, The Beachhouse. They are known for their Walleye and Eggs. De-freaking-licious. I rode with Kari, Brent and Trevor. I sat in the back with Trevor. We were playing with some action figure thingy he has. And by playing I mean that he wanted me to attach this dude's sword to his hand. No such luck. I need to work on my action figure skills. So about 2/3's of the way there, Trevor looks over at me and says, "Your belly is still really big. Are you going to have another baby?" I answer that no, I in fact am not having another baby...just still fat from the last one. He proceeds to say, "Yay! Another baby! Another baby!" The rest of the way to breakfast. Nothing like having your ego shot for the day by a 5 year old.