Oh, Olivia Newton John, how I love you.

It's 7:30am and I'm feeling pretty proud of myself right now.  Why?  Because I just logged 24.5 minutes on the treadmill before one of the babies needed my attention.  Here's how it went down...

Beckett woke up to eat at 6:30.  I fed him, put him back in his bed in our closet, grabbed whatever clothes I could find that were workout worthy (extra sports bra included, hooray for nursing...) without disturbing the boy and headed downstairs.  Mark was having breakfast and as I was getting some water, Beckett starts whining and I see his little eyes staring at the camera on the monitor.  I ask if Mark can go put his pacifier back in and I head down to the basement.

I forgo stretching (no time!) and hop on the ghetto treadmill.  My cousin got it on Craigslist and it was at my aunt & uncle's house not being used.  They were happy to get rid of it and we became the proud owners.  It likes to stop sporadically while in use and my husband can't even use it because the belt won't run if there is more than approximately 160 pounds on it.  Buuuut, it was free and does the job for now.

I start my slightly pathetic routine of walking for 2 minutes (after a solid 5 minutes of warm-up walking) and running for 3 minutes.  At 12.5 minutes, the piece of tape that is holding the little key thing in the exact right position it has to be in to turn it on, gives way.  I stop abruptly, curse it, chug some water and restart it.

5 minutes more of time logged and I see the lights on the baby monitor flashing.  Beckett is agitated because his paci is out, his bed has stopped vibrating, and the sleep sheep is quiet.  He's a high maintenance sleeper.  I manage to stay on for 7 minutes longer while he whines before it escalates into a full out cry.

I call it good, stop the dinosaur, take off my shoes, run upstairs & get Beckett settled again.  And here I am.

I've been feeling pretty icky lately in regards to my post-second-baby body and I've made it my goal to get on the treadmill for 30 minutes, 4 days/week.  This isn't much, but it's a lot with the two kids & their sleeping schedules...and my need for 7-8 hours of sleep every night.  This means that I can do it on both weekend days while Mark watches the kids, but I have to get in 2 other sessions while they're under my watch.

One down.

And now it's 7:46 and Marley wants out of her cage...happy Tuesday to you!