Fringetastic Workout Routine: Instructions
Sunday
Plan your week, feel confident in your ability to get up early every morning and jog 2-3 miles before the kids wake up and you have to get ready for work while yelling answers to your four-year-old over the hair dryer. Answers like, “No, I didn’t know that baby kangaroos were a pinkish-gray color. That’s very interesting!”
Monday
Curse yourself for pushing snooze 14 times and convincing your half-asleep brain that getting up one hour before you have to physically BE in the office will still leave plenty of time for a jog, changing outfits six times, intervening in a who-can-throw-the-most-breakable-item-down-the-stairs-before-someone-comes-to-stop-us contest between your kids, and apologizing to your husband for once again failing to feed the epileptic dog his organic diet like you promised you would when you still felt sorry for said epileptic dog – before the novelty of his condition wore off, that is.
After dinner, feel pleased with yourself for going for a jog after failing to in the morning. Then feel guilty for losing that 40 minutes before bed with the kids while jogging. Then get frustrated when, in your sweaty jogging clothes and still feeling dehydrated, your kids’ chaotic pre-bedtime behavior reaches its peak; threaten to take away their precious blankets, then feel guilty again. After kids are asleep and you’ve re-hydrated, have a glass of wine to dull the pain of knowing you’re ultimately just a cruel, heartless security blanket thief. What’s next – stealing the squirrels’ winter nut supply in your back yard?
Tuesday
Triumphantly hit snooze only four times. Instead of going for a jog, make the mistake of turning on your computer to check e-mail. 25 minutes later, let out an exasperated yelp as you realize you’re going to be late for work again. Apologize to your husband on the way out the door, promising you’ll remember to feed that epileptic dog like you agreed…tomorrow.
Still smarting from the Monday night guilt, forego the jog to spend quality time with the kids. Wonder, as you dry off kid #2, why you thought NOT going for a run would be more pleasant for your kids, since you spent the entire bath time screaming at them to stop drenching you with their mad, mad bathtub surfing.
Wednesday
Admit to yourself that you are not going to get up early to run, period. Get up early enough to feed the dog once this week, and be proud that you accomplished that much. Realize you continually lower the standards you thought you’d set for yourself as an adult.
After work, decide to combine your goals of quality time with the kids and exercise: take them for a jog while pushing them in the double stroller. This way you burn calories in three ways: 1.) jogging, 2.) pushing 85 pounds of stroller and two children up your neighborhood hills, and 3.) yelling at your kids to stop hitting each other and stop demanding that you go faster, because you’re gasping for the breath of life at your snail’s pace as it is, damn it.
Thursday
Forget to even set the alarm, be happy you get out the door in time to be at work before anyone notices how late you really are. And maybe they won’t notice that your socks are mismatched.
After work, forget the jog. It’s just too complicated. Eat take-out, have a Mike’s, let the kids run wild while laughing about it, then kill some (more) brain cells while watching a few episodes of The Office.
Friday
Well, you accomplished two out of the planned five jogs this week. Tell yourself you’ll start all over on Monday. Hit snooze and look forward to the margarita and chips and salsa you’ll be indulging in after work today. Ask yourself curiously why your pants seem to be getting tighter each week. Oops, no time for such questions. You’re late again. The kids are throwing matchbox cars at each other and screaming. And you owe your husband yet another apology for not feeding that dog of yours.
Plan your week, feel confident in your ability to get up early every morning and jog 2-3 miles before the kids wake up and you have to get ready for work while yelling answers to your four-year-old over the hair dryer. Answers like, “No, I didn’t know that baby kangaroos were a pinkish-gray color. That’s very interesting!”
Monday
Curse yourself for pushing snooze 14 times and convincing your half-asleep brain that getting up one hour before you have to physically BE in the office will still leave plenty of time for a jog, changing outfits six times, intervening in a who-can-throw-the-most-breakable-item-down-the-stairs-before-someone-comes-to-stop-us contest between your kids, and apologizing to your husband for once again failing to feed the epileptic dog his organic diet like you promised you would when you still felt sorry for said epileptic dog – before the novelty of his condition wore off, that is.
After dinner, feel pleased with yourself for going for a jog after failing to in the morning. Then feel guilty for losing that 40 minutes before bed with the kids while jogging. Then get frustrated when, in your sweaty jogging clothes and still feeling dehydrated, your kids’ chaotic pre-bedtime behavior reaches its peak; threaten to take away their precious blankets, then feel guilty again. After kids are asleep and you’ve re-hydrated, have a glass of wine to dull the pain of knowing you’re ultimately just a cruel, heartless security blanket thief. What’s next – stealing the squirrels’ winter nut supply in your back yard?
Tuesday
Triumphantly hit snooze only four times. Instead of going for a jog, make the mistake of turning on your computer to check e-mail. 25 minutes later, let out an exasperated yelp as you realize you’re going to be late for work again. Apologize to your husband on the way out the door, promising you’ll remember to feed that epileptic dog like you agreed…tomorrow.
Still smarting from the Monday night guilt, forego the jog to spend quality time with the kids. Wonder, as you dry off kid #2, why you thought NOT going for a run would be more pleasant for your kids, since you spent the entire bath time screaming at them to stop drenching you with their mad, mad bathtub surfing.
Wednesday
Admit to yourself that you are not going to get up early to run, period. Get up early enough to feed the dog once this week, and be proud that you accomplished that much. Realize you continually lower the standards you thought you’d set for yourself as an adult.
After work, decide to combine your goals of quality time with the kids and exercise: take them for a jog while pushing them in the double stroller. This way you burn calories in three ways: 1.) jogging, 2.) pushing 85 pounds of stroller and two children up your neighborhood hills, and 3.) yelling at your kids to stop hitting each other and stop demanding that you go faster, because you’re gasping for the breath of life at your snail’s pace as it is, damn it.
Thursday
Forget to even set the alarm, be happy you get out the door in time to be at work before anyone notices how late you really are. And maybe they won’t notice that your socks are mismatched.
After work, forget the jog. It’s just too complicated. Eat take-out, have a Mike’s, let the kids run wild while laughing about it, then kill some (more) brain cells while watching a few episodes of The Office.
Friday
Well, you accomplished two out of the planned five jogs this week. Tell yourself you’ll start all over on Monday. Hit snooze and look forward to the margarita and chips and salsa you’ll be indulging in after work today. Ask yourself curiously why your pants seem to be getting tighter each week. Oops, no time for such questions. You’re late again. The kids are throwing matchbox cars at each other and screaming. And you owe your husband yet another apology for not feeding that dog of yours.
Labels: chaos rules