Did I tell you that I made it to the gym the other day? We got up on a Monday, had a small breakfast and headed to the newer gym that just opened near my house. I brought William to the kids club - their little babysitting facility, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the kids club at the new gym is almost twice the size of the one at the older gym. There were a lot of kids, but because of all the space, everyone seemed happy and occupied - coloring, playing dinosaurs, watching Dora. William walked right in, picked up a bull dozer and started playing. I headed out to the floor and had a nice 45 min. workout. I jogged and walked on a treadmill, used the ellipticals, did a bunch of crunches and girl pushups and stretched. It was wonderful.

I went to get William and he seemed happy, albeit ready to go.

The next day, we get to the gym and we’re heading into the main doors and he moves behind me and gives me a little shove, saying, “you go, mommy, I’ll stay here.” Um, what? Then he says, “I’m not going to the gym anymore.” We went inside anyway where he proceeded to scream and cry like I was pinching him or pulling his hair or something. Very dramatic.

Well, it’s not like gymnastics where we can just stay even though he’s crying. For the sake of the three care providers and the 10 or so other kids in the kids club, I felt obligated to get my crier out of there. Thereby giving in to his tantrum. Ugh.

My only option at this point is to go at night once my husband gets home. This plan is kind of crappy because I don’t ever feel like going at 8 pm and it’s very easy to make excuses.

Nonetheless, I’ve got some weight to lose…I need a plan.