Don't Go. Don't Go. Don't Go.

I am going back to the gym again, I have been going for the past two weeks. Six pounds in six visits. Not bad, I think.
That's the good part about hitting the gym again. The bad part is that I don't get to spend my mornings with my kids anymore. I used to wake up with them every morning and we would play and have breakfast together before I headed off to work. In order for me to make it to the gym before going to work, I leave a full hour before they even wake up.
The past couple of mornings, Bib Sis comes into our bedroom after she wakes and asks her Mommy where Daddy is. "At work," Mommy tells her. This morning, Big Sis enters the bedroom and before she even asks, she looks at the empty place on my side of the bed and says in a disappointed tone, "Again?"
Ugh. I keep telling myself that it's a good thing for me to keep going. Stories like that really bum me out.

Speaking of things she misses, I traded away my Jeep for a pick-up truck. That's a story for another day, and one worth telling. Big Sis, on the way to dinner tonight asked me where the Jeep was. I told her that we had traded it in for the pickup truck.
"Your pickup truck?" she asked.
"Yep, my pickup truck." I answered.
"I don't like it. I want the Jeep back."
So do I, kid. So do I.

Big Sis is doing great with her potty training. The best part is when she lets my Wonderful Wife know that she has to go, it is all-of-a-sudden the biggest production for her to get to the bathroom.
You know how Road Runner would run in place for a few seconds before he would actually takc off? She's kinda like that. It looks like she would be running sprints in the Olympics, but there isn't much forward motion for all that movement.
The whole way to the potty, she whispers to herself, "Don't go. Don't go. Don't go."
She is a hoot.