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I'm Going to the Gym Today, I Swear....

I had plans of focusing on me today and was going to start that diet and exercise program one more time. However, any working mom knows how this is going to turn out. Here's how it goes.... Plan to go to the gym. Pack running shoes, water, and tiny workout tops. Feeling good about this plan.... Urgent text message arrives: "Mom, Forgot to tell you it's your day to bring snacks to school." Off I go to the store to look for 25 individually wrapped healthy snacks that meet the guidelines of the state nutrition standards, but probably taste like drywall. Unfortunately, healthy snacks in cellophane seem to be limited to candy covered brownies or cheese crackers. Both gross. The fresh fruit section looks good, but God help us if we serve something protected by mother nature in a sanitary organic fiber.   No...  it has to be in plastic to keep out e-colli. I settle for individual packages of gold-fish crackers and orange juice. But - while there, I see the lasagna noodle boxes and think, "Hey - My family deserves a home cooked meal." - So pasta it is. The gym is pushed back so I can boil noodles and spend my evening assisting with algebra homework. Note - If you have two meats and three cheeses, one can easily calculate the number of options you have for a 1 meat, 1 cheese lasagna if a= meat and b= cheese. My daughter comes in and announces that she has to write a narrative story and film it.... TONIGHT. The pasta is in the oven and then I'm off to hunt for video cables, disks and battery chargers. Four hours later, we are full of pasta, the Academy is calling me to inform me of our nomination for best short skit and bedtime is nearing. The gym still waits, but there are children to bathe and prayers to be said bedside, so the workout never happens. Feeling guilty for not working out and finding "me" time, I hear the chocolate bar calling out from the cupboard. The earth shifts slightly on its axis, rolling the peanut butter jar my way. I turn on an old Jerry Springer re-run just to feel better about my own sanity and slowly dip one rectangle of chocolaty goodness into the peanut butter jar feeling fully satisfied about life. Hershey and Jif have no clue of the real power they have over working moms.


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