It was way after 10 p.m. before I got into bed last night. Even The Mr. said he thought I was coming to bed earlier. But I was still OK, still psyched to walk in the morning.

My mind was racing; it was like the night before you leave for vacation and first you can't go to sleep and then once you do go to sleep you wake up every hour to see if it's time to get up yet. But I was still OK, still determined to walk.

My sleep went like that until No. 2 dashed into our room and curled up next to me because she had had a bad dream. She's a fitful sleeper, and I had to send her back to her room because she was keeping me awake. I was still OK to go, though. I knew I was going to be tired and really dragging by the end of the day, but I was motivated.

And then it happened. No. 3 woke up with the dreaded barky cough. At 4 a.m. Even after gathering the nebulizer and the medicine and giving a 15-minute breathing treatment and sitting upright with No. 3 for several minutes afterward, I was *still* motivated. Damnit I wasn't going to let myself down. And then I lay awake listening to No. 3 wheezing and The Mr. snoring. And I started writing this post, and I started thinking about our editorial summit this week at work and everything else going on in my mind. I succumbed to fate: I reset my alarm clock knowing that even if I did get up, I'd be no good at work because of my fatigue. Also, Mommy wanted to snuggle with her baby as long as she could.

I don't feel too defeated, though. Had this glitch happened when my walking routine was already established, I wouldn't be beating myself up so much. Furthermore, on my nearly one-hour trek back from the endocrinologist's office today, I did not stop for fast food as I normally would have (I made my lunch last night). Not only that, but after a meeting with my pump trainer/former CDE, I have new exercise tricks to try with my pump tomorrow.