“Finish your waffles and get your shoes on. We’re going to the gym after breakfast.” I tell the noisy boys.
“Can we do the climbing wall?” Twin A. mumbles, his mouth full of syrupy waffles.
“Aww.” Twin B. whines. “I don’t want to go to the gym. I’m cold.”
“Sorry buddy. I need to work out, and Dad took baby b. to the doctor.”
The boys whine all the way to the van. It’s raining. I feel terrible dragging them out on a day like today.
“I’ll keep it quick,” I tell the boys as I drop them off. The childcare center is packed. “Stick together!” I call out to them as they wander in to join the huge mass of children.
After ten minutes on the elliptical, I move on to the weights. I can go for a run tomorrow morning before church, but I can’t do the strength training at home. I skip the ab work. Thursday’s session with the trainer still has my abdominal region screaming in pain.
Thirty minutes later, I grab my purse from the locker room and go back to the childcare center to pick up the noisy boys.
“You're back already? Can we please stay a little longer?” Twin B. asks.
“Please?” Twin A looks hopeful.
“I thought you guys didn’t want to go to the gym today?” I ask.
“We changed our minds.” Twin A. explains.
I head back to the workout room to finish my cardio, wondering why I bother with the whole mother-guilt thing. It’s highly overrated.