I had a plan, this morning, to get up at a reasonable hour (7:15), get on my workout clothes, fix breakfast for the kids and me, make Enthusio's lunch for day camp, drop him off, and take Mermaid with me to the gym so I could take the stability ball class at 8:30. This seemed like an even better idea than before when my clock radio turned on for the second time (I hit the snooze) and the guy on the radio announced that it was already 75 degrees out and it was going to be a hot one. Even more reason to get my workout done early. I arose, dressed, put in my contacts, and came downstairs, where I fixed myself some breakfast and drank a diet soda.
Thirty minutes later, I'm down here and ready to go. The children, however, are still upstairs sleeping.
If you have kids, you know that sleeping in is not a taste that, once acquired, you want to discourage in them. Weekends and vacations become a lot more pleasant once your children stop wanting to arise at the buttcrack of dawn, no? So, even though it's only one morning, I am loathe to go up there and mess with them. KWIM?
Nevertheless, I'm proud of myself for getting up when I said I would.
Hark! I hear a stirring from above...
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