Just Five More Minutes.....

In my effort to remain healthy and feel good about myself (and my butt and thighs) I've been trying to make a valiant effort each week to get to the gym or do some sort of aerobic activity a few times a week. I need to relieve stress and it's a great way to have some time to myself. Yesterday I was so ready to get to the gym but I guess life had other plans for me.
I should have known when I went to pick up the little one at her daycare and found her sound asleep in her crib that my time was limited. She woke up and was wide awake in her car seat on the drive to the gym. I got there right as the day care is supposed to open but guess who was a no-show. Yup, the daycare worker. She's late- AGAIN! The chick is always late. As the restless Moms milled around the room you could hear this grumbling going around that almost became a chant- if she's always late why does she still have a job?! Just what I myself was wondering as I looked down at my baby silently pleading with her to be happy for an hour- just an hour for Mommy please?! Finally 20 minutes later the girl shows up. I practically hurdle over the kiddie door and run to the only ellipitical machine available.
I was about 17 minutes into my cardio when I heard it. That unmistakable sound. A child crying, no screaming. And it's my child. I look at the monitor on the machine. 17 bloody minutes and I'm just getting into a zone. My little running high had kicked in and I'm dripping in sweat and loving it. Only she's screaming her head off and now I can't concentrate. It keeps going and I finally decide to get off the machine. I know that I'll walk into that nursery and there goes my workout. I'm so angry and frustrated! Does this happen to my husband? No it doesn't! I'm fuming. I walk into the room and the girl is holding my baby whose carrier is placed in front of a large heat duct which is blasting hot air. The carrier seat is hot to the touch. No wonder she's screaming her head off. I just glare at her and take my kid. I buckle her in and stuff her pacifier in her mouth glaring at her too. It's not her fault I know but I just wanted at least 30 minutes!! I pack her screaming butt in the car and we head home. My husband comes home later and asks- how was the gym?! I just glare and say - Not good. She cried, I had to leave. Sigh...

Today I'm thinking well it's not the first time this is going to happen and this is the way it is now. No matter what at least I got there and did something. She can't take care of herself and I'm the one who has to do it. I just have to accept that she does come first before some things now. I'll lose the weight, I'll get there I will. I just have to get creative.