I’ve always been someone who enjoys working out. I’ve been a consistent 3-4 times-a-weeker since my teenage years. I’m one of those annoying people who exercised all through my pregnancy, right up until the day before I went into labor.
Even once I became a full-time working parent, I made time. Right after work, I’d set Ryan up in the bouncer while I jumped onto the elliptical. As he got older and more mobile, I woke up extra early to cram a workout in before breakfast.
Now that I’m home all day every day? I cannot seem to find the time. Even with Ryan in preschool three mornings a week, I cannot find the time.
The reasons are many: I use that preschool time to run errands and clean the house. I am on my feet MUCH more than I was during my office job days, so by the time Mike gets home from work, the absolute last thing I want to do is hop on a machine and move some more.
And forget getting up early. I am doing a lot of freelance writing at night and on those nights, my head often doesn’t hit the pillow until after 11 p.m. I’ve never been a morning person, but I need every extra second of sleep I can muster these days.
I don’t like to use the TV or the iPad as a way to distract Ryan while I’m working out because frankly, I need those distractions for two other more important daily chores: showering and cooking.
But given that it’s a new year, I thought maybe I ought to attempt to get back into some sort of healthy routine. So today, I decided to break my own rule and let Ryan use the iPad while I exercised for 30 minutes.
Naturally, Ryan was on board with this plan, but naturally, he lost the privilege before we could even start (he didn’t want to go on the potty, then he didn’t want to brush his teeth, then he didn’t want to get changed out of his pjs, then he pinched me).
So I let him play in my bedroom while I worked out, telling him if he played nicely, he would earn back the right to play on the iPad while I showered.
Thirty teeny tiny little minutes. That’s all I needed.
After 2 minutes and 44 seconds, I had to stop so he could poop.*
Less than four minutes later, at 6 minutes 35 seconds, he had to pee.**
At fourteen minutes 50 seconds, he crashed a play cart into Mike’s dresser and I had to get down to have a talk with him about playing gently. Then I set up pillows against the furniture because I knew the lecture was wasted on him.
At 21 minutes 45 seconds, he tried to climb on the elliptical with me, ignoring my warnings that such a move was dangerous.
At that point, I decided he had “earned” back the stupid iPad and went to get him set up in a chair in his bedroom.
At 23 minutes 39 seconds, he knocked on my door to tell me I needed to come down the hall to turn up the volume on the iPad.
That’s when I realized something that seems sort of obvious now: I don’t need to find time to work out. Because That’s. All. I. Do. All. Day. Long.
*I know, it’s too much information for me, too.
**It’s too much to hope he could take care of all bathroom business on one trip, after all.