In Pursuit of the After Picture

I have a little work out routine that I do every day. It starts with 15 minutes on the step machine. Not exactly the fast track to that "after" picture I'm shooting for, but you have to start somewhere. I generally put Sophie in her little rocking chair about 5 feet away from me. Why, you might ask, don't I do this while she is sleeping? Because, I have to keep the stepper in our bedroom or I won't do it - out of sight, out of mind - and our bedroom is right next to Sophie's room. The stepper, despite being oiled, still makes a squeaking noise with each step and I like watching TV while I do it, so to be heard over the squeaking, the TV has to be pretty loud. Between the squeak, squeak, squeak and the roaring television, there's not much sleeping going on. So she gets to watch me every day. Lucky kid.

For a while the jingly bell and battery operated "Doggie in the Window" pull thingie on her chair will keep her occupied. However, almost every day she starts fussing somewhere around the 10 minute mark. This, of course, makes me anxious. So what do I do? I start going faster. As though I have a destination and if I go faster I will get there sooner. As her crying gets louder, I go even faster, pushing that little step machine to the limits of what it can do. By the end, I'm stepping like I'm being chased by a pack of wild dogs. The upside to this is that thanks to her the last 5 minutes of my step workout is CRAZY. The downside is that my head might explode.