So I'll admit that when I made the decision to be home with the kid during the day, I figured that I would have him on the schedule of all schedules. I read the books and felt well prepared; my life before the kid was planned by 15 minute increments and I lived by it. To my dismay, I've failed at this and have decided that babies who are on a schedule just don't exist in real life (if yours is, please don't share that with me, it won't help at this point). They are like those weight loss actors on TV who lost 79lbs in 2 weeks by eating salt and vinegar chips and taking a pill; they exist only to make those of us based in reality question our sanity. I suck at nap administration, if it were a college class I would have withdrawn by now. I swear the kid plays mind games with me, he's up at night texting his pals about the mayhem he caused by refusing to bend to my wishes that he lay his head down for a planned nap. I've kind of given up. I don't have it in me to claim complete defeat but accepted that the kid is far more skilled than myself and I can only learn from watching his maneuvers. So yet again today...he schooled me and showed me that reading those books was a complete waste of time. I figured we'd go for a run after lunch, he's been staying awake for them (until today). Sure enough, I get to the car and he's out. So now, do I keep running so he can get some beauty rest or do I stop and we both pay the price? As you can guess, I grabbed some water and kept going for a while longer, the whole time cursing him under my breath. Yes, I said I was cursing him. In the end I should thank him, (I won't b/c I'm a stubborn ass and his mastery of the english language is lacking) because my 3 mile run turned into a 6 mile run which was actually what I should have done according to that plan that I'm loosely following at this point.
Swam for 40 minutes and ran for 6 miles.
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