In the meantime, let me give you a quick recap of how my last session with her went:
10:10 Husband and daughter are running an errand. I plop Tracy into the DVD player.
10:12 Doing warm-ups. What is that on the rug? Oh my god, is that dog barf? Hit pause.
10:16 Back to the video.
10:25 Baby crying. Hit pause for a quick breather/nursing session.
10:33 Back to the video. I hate Tracy Anderson. But I will love her if my abs can look half as good as hers.
10:40 The dog decides that me being on the floor is an open invitation to play. She brings her ball over and starts chewing it AGAINST my leg while I'm working out.
10:42 I get the dog to stop chewing her ball on me but now she is chewing it right next to my face, with her least attractive side facing me. I actually utter these words, "Rosie, please move your butthole."
10:50 Husband and daughter return from their errand. Hit pause while household erupts into temporary chaos.
10:58 Back to video. Tracy is looking perfect and gorgeous in her wood-paneled studio filled with vases of peonies, fluffy pillows and burning candles. I am looking worn out and flabby in my dog barf/dust bunny ridden/toy strewn house. Hopefully, my abs do not know the difference.