I did not work out today as intended. I meant to, I swear.
I’ve been doing great! Hour long walks to train for March for Babies, grueling sessions with pilates at home, and a killer interval-training session at the gym that actually made me cry when I hit muscle failure.
But see, when I woke up I had just enough time to get Buttercup to her first swim class. Which required me to keep her 33lbs afloat for 45 minutes. Which seriously, is probably why my arms are currently feeling like Jello.
If Jello hurts, that is.
But back to the crazy day and my really good excuse(s) for not getting to that 20-minute pilates DVD I promised I was going to do today. After swim class, I carried Buttercup’s sleeping self into bed where she enjoyed a 3.5 hour nap. During my break from motherhood, I meant to work out. I really was going to. But first I had to make the brownies. And the cupcakes. And the fudge. After I went to the grocery store, of course, for the crap on my list I meant to buy yesterday and we really don’t need to get into that whole mess.
So after I successfully escaped from the special hell that is a major grocery store the day before any holiday, I came home. And then I made the brownies. And the cupcakes. And the fudge.
Then it was dinner time. Then we had to clean up after dinner time.
And then it was time to dye the Easter eggs and carefully explain to Buttercup that no, the eggs we were dying do not contain baby birdies that will hatch after the Easter Bunny comes which makes me think tomorrow is really going to be interesting and I might need to start looking for a therapist for my daughter on Monday.
Okay, so that’s when I was going to work out. After all, things were done now, right? Right?
Because see, we’re grilling tomorrow. A nice Easter lunch barbecue with rib-eye and veggie kabobs and a very real need for a filled propane tank. Which I didn’t realize we already had until I got to the Quickmart with the so-obviously-heavy-I-should-have-known-it-was-full-tank and the kind cashier gently informed me that I could have my $26 back.
And then I got home (again) and it was time to help my mom with the kitchen and then of course, at 8:30, I took Buttercup up to bed. Where, I should point out, she normally passes out after one book. I should also point out she normally does not take 3.5 hour naps.
And after two books and 65 renditions of “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” (thanks to the lyrics I had pulled up on my blackberry which I always keep in my bra) she finally did pass out. At 10 p.m.
So I sneaked out and headed downstairs, grateful to find The Husband had managed to nuke the dinner I forgot to mention I prepared for him and ate it all on his own! But I still had to do my nightly Mexican June Cleaver routine and prep his cooler with a sammich and goodies for his midnight shift. And after I finished that, I sat down to prep Buttercup’s Easter basket. The old one, mind you. Her new Elmo Bunny basket is the one going to church with us so we don’t have to worry about any hip-checking incidents like last year during the Easter egg hunt.
And then I kissed The Husband good-bye and, like, totally planned on working out then.
But the kitchen floor was gross. So mom vacuumed. And then I steam mopped. And then we both realized that the fridge was nasty inside and our guests will think we’re cave people and we had no room for all the goodies I baked, so we emptied, cleaned, and rearranged.
And then I looked at the clock and thought I was a fucking lunatic if I was even going to attempt to do pilates at 12:30 a.m. when I had church the next day.
So I sat down to blog instead.