Irvin Street.

    A few months ago, our overly-perky Weight Watchers advisors manipulated us all into signing a goal to exercise every day for an allotted amount of time. Weight Watchers everywhere could enter to win a huge "walking tour" to a "famous American City" if they completed the challenge! I was pumped, so I signed my name right on the giant poster and spent the rest of the meeting dreaming about winning a vacation.

    Several weeks have gone by since I signed my name, and I haven't exercised once. The thought of exercising hasn't even crossed my mind, and I am one of the few in class who hasn't placed a big gold star sticker next to my name, to mark progress. (At least I'm being honest!)

   So I am proud to say, that today, I actually started a goal! I didn't sign any posters, and I don't have any perky advisors to root for me, but I did it!

    And it was rough.

    This morning, I pointed out to Barry that he needed to get ready for work, and miserably he told me that he had been up all night puking. (And I slept through it all, what I good wife I am!) He called work, and planned on spending the day, wallowing in bed. And I don't know what the heck was going on with Grayson, but I pretty much fantasized about taking my dear little munchkin... and throwing him out the window. And really, I say that with all the motherly love in my heart! For some reason (waking up on the wrong side of the bed?) he was soooooooo whiney!

   I dared tackle the grocery store husbandless so he could sleep, and Grayson threw the biggest fit I've ever seen. I said "no" to something he wanted so in the middle of the aisle, right in front of the check-out stands (so everyone in the store could watch...) He threw himself on the ground, and there was a lot of screaming, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. By the end of the day, all I wanted was to toss that little (adorable) punk in bed, exhale, and relax.

   But... we set a goal to walk a new sidewalk every day this summer. I told my husband that I would walk alone tonight since he was sick, but he went to the bedroom and walked out with basketball shorts and tennis shoes. And so, my flu-ridden husband, my obnoxious-ridden two-year-old, my baby, and I set off on our crazy adventure!

    1591 steps.

    That's what it took to walk up and down our street. We figured we'd knock our street out of the way first, so we couldn't use it as a last-minute back-up plan somewhere down the line! So there it is folks, day 1 complete.

     Feelin' good.