If you're really good I'll give you some candy at the end

Yesterday I challenged my older sister, Punk, to 13 days of crunches. We each have to do 150 crunches everyday for the next 13 days. This is mostly because I'm going to an indoor water park in 13 days and have to put a swimsuit on. (read freaking out) For completing this task I told her I'd buy her an ITunes card and she seemed genuinely interested but she failed to do her crunches yesterday, I, however, did them. I am so, let me say again, SO sore today, but I managed to do all 150 again today. I also stepped up my cardio efforts and have taken a cycling class two days in a row. (Oh my gosh the sweat, ew, the sweat) As a result not only are my abs totally sore so is my tush. I hate those bike seats, but I'll suffer through it. I refuse to become one of those people who wear the padded shorts. Oh you know the ones. All these efforts had better pay off.
Now only if my legs weren't so frighteningly white. Like blindingly white. It's not going to be pretty. I suppose there is a reason they don't put mirrors up all over water parks.

On another completely different note. I've decided that my family is trying to kill me Stewie style. They've chosen sleep deprivation as their method. My husband keeps me up late talking about work, football, baseball, kids and whatever else he can come up with. At about 11:45 I convince him that sleep is a fantastic idea, only to be awakened like 3 or 4 more times in the night by whichever kid wakes up. Then I get woken up around 5:43 by the alarm. It's a slow torturous death, completely cruel. At least Stewie had the decency to give his mother a quick death.

As promised you sat through my whining and boring workout talk so here is your candy.

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