There has been an unopened box of Pop Tarts staring me in the face all week. Only now it’s open, because my husband decided it would be a good idea to test my will one night. He literally dangled cookie dough Pop Tarts in front of me trying to convince me I should eat one, but I stood my ground and emerged victorious. Yes, my husband has indeed become the thorn in my side.

But he’s a cute thorn. I still like him.

Week 2 has been difficult. Wednesday afternoon we went to the county fair and ate fair food. We tried to keep it as healthy as possible, but there’s really not much you can do with fair food as people who go to fairs are not interested in salads, or vegetables, or for that matter anything that isn’t deep fried. Hurricane Matthew blew through on Saturday so it’s a miracle we the electricity to run the DVD player. On Sunday, we unexpectedly had friends come into town and we not only went out to eat bar food, we also didn’t get home until 11pm, putting us a day behind on our workout. Monday we got restless and instead of staying home and working out in the evening as we had planned we decided to go out for the afternoon, but that turned into going out until 10pm because we had to drive an hour and a half to get anywhere worth going.

But we’re still making it happen.

One of the keys to a success fitness plan is not giving up when you fail. On Sunday we ate fatty bar food and didn’t manage to work out–basically, we failed–but on Monday, instead of using our failure as an excuse to give up (Why bother eating healthy if I already blew the diet?) we went back to sticking to our eating plan and working out.

My husband has told me he’s noticed a difference. First, there is the difference in how I look. I haven’t noticed a dramatic transformation because I was pretty healthy to start, but muscle tone is definitely becoming more defined and those last few baby pounds stuck on my belly are all but gone. Guys, this is serious–I almost have my pre-baby six pack back!

Then there is the difference in my confidence. I didn’t even realize this would happen because I thought I looked pretty decent to start out, but my husband told me last night that I’ve been acting more confident and me feeling good about myself affects some pretty important aspects of our marriage.

It’s been work though, y’all. I’m not going to lie, I don’t usually want to spend my afternoons prepping breakfast and lunch for my husband so he can follow the eating plan with me. But I’m at home with my little dude, and we can hang out while I do it. He’s not the most mentally stimulating company, but he’s pretty darn fun, and I am so thankful that the opportunity I have to work from home allows me to spend all day with him.

We’re two-thirds of the way down, and we only have one week to go. One more week of arguing over whether or not we should eat the Pop Tarts. One more week of working out together and bonding over our mutual desire for ice cream and our mutual disdain for burpees. One more week of the victorious feeling we share when we complete the workout.

Just one more week to go. We got this!