soontobejustme

The Answer

2007-05-16T06:17:00.000-05:00

The answer to 9 truths and a lie will appear in the new blog.

Right next to the post about spanking.

Which is dedicated to those who haven't expressed any interest in knowing where the new blog is, and frankly, I'm a little sad about that.

Protection

2007-05-15T09:54:00.000-05:00

So, I've officially entered the witness protection program. New blog, new names, etc.

If you want to follow me and I like you e-mail me and tell me why I should let you be my friend.

You think I'm mouthy here...you should see what comes out of me when I don't need to filter.

9 Truths and a lie

2007-05-14T12:19:00.000-05:00

I just LOVE these blogging games..

1. I only have one ovary

2. I skipped 5th grade.

3. I was in a major magazine (picture and all)

4. I changed schools 17 times before graduating high school.

5. I've been licensed to drive forklift, and for harness racing (horses)

6. I have seriously deformed toes

7. My Lady's Garden (sweeping hand motion) is pierced and tattooed-- hence all the grooming you keep reading about

8. I'm still angry that someone stole my Donny and Marie dolls in kindergarten

9. I've sung in a rock band

10. I've 'played for the other team' but it just wasn't for me.

I tag Speedwobble, Fex, Buck Nekkid and Gadfly (I mean he's top of mind after what he said about my cheesecake.)

A Good Day Fishin'

2007-05-13T18:27:00.000-05:00

They say a bad day fishin is still better than a good day at work. Well, what if you get to fish TWO DAYS IN A ROW?!

It was my weekend with the boys, and yesterday we did the train museum fishing and bike riding. Today, church, brunch with Maven and G Man, more fishing (I ran around the lake while my mom was the Master Baiter) and wrapped up with bike riding and playing in the playground.

I can't wait to go to work to REST!Karateboy and his first TROUT!

Tippy was more patient watching that bobber than any child I've ever seen!

I was there for the sun and the worms.

Fuck it, bring me the cheesecake.

2007-05-10T20:12:00.000-05:00

MILF Checkin-- how many weeks have I been saying the same thing? Weight same, body a wee bit smaller. But I did get a picture of myself from Walkamerica. A side view. I hardly recognized me.

So, for the 4th time, I sucked it up and took myself out to dinner. In a restaurant with napkins and silverware.

I chose the Cheesecake Factory because as a single person, I could easily get a table. And I haven't had cheesecake in a really, really, really long time. And if, in my head, I pretend to be Rachel Ray, I tend to enjoy the experience of dining 'al singlo'.

I think I was feeling sassy 'cause I'd just had my visit with my esthatician (sic?) and I always feel just a little bit tougher after someone pours hot wax on my most delicate of regions and rips out the hair by the root. Oh and my brows look fantastic. No mustache. No beard. {sigh!} So I was feeling pretty full of a cup of ME!

And I swear to GOD if I had to eat one more Cliff bar or Power Bar or Luna Bar for dinner, I'm going to scream.

So I sashayed into said restaurant, and when they asked, ' how many?', I answered, 'Party of ME!' ( I kid you not, you can ask the girl with the cute hair. That's what I said.)

She rhetorically asked who she should 'give' me to, and I said, ' someone with personality, please'. 'Cause I was on a sassy high. A force of nature. People, I am HEEEERREEE!

I sat down, ordered my drinks (water and diet soda). Drank them both before the waiter got back to the table for my order-- that's when he knew he had his hands full. I ordered the Steakhouse Salad. He felt the need to point out that there was no steak on that salad. I just looked at him. Then I told him to bring me the chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake.

I dutifully ate my salad. Even had a little bread. He dutifully refilled my drinks. Both of them.

Then came the cheesecake. Because I have worked my ASS off since my last piece of cheesecake. I can't even remember when it was. It isn't that I was depriving myself...I just liked the results I was getting more than I wanted cheesecake.

This was the kind of week where lots of teeny silly things were just chipping away at me. I still carried my sunny disposition but there were tiny little chinks. I snip here, a snip there--and they left me tired and disappointed. And I really, really wanted to reward myself.

So he brought the cheesecake. With a SUPER amount of whipped cream. With chocolate chips on top. My smile was from ear to ear. I savored that first sweet, creamy spoonful. Then I hit some of the whipped cream. I methodically switched between the two enjoying every single sensation. I might have even moaned. Who cares. I was having cheesecake. (I took a picture, but seemed to have LOST my camera in the last 10 hours. Um..yeah, so picture to be posted later)

I ate thing whole thing and with each spoonful teased the hell out of an elderly woman in a wheelchair at the next table. That is until her filet mignon came came out. Then we were even.

So bring on the freakin' cheescake people, 'cause you only live once.

(oh and another plus? Someone told me that I've graduated from future MILF to full MILF. I feel like there ought to be a ceremony or something)

Indecent Proposal

2007-05-10T13:20:00.000-05:00

Last night after kickball, it was drink time. I look forward to drink time.

As always Buck Nekkid led the conversation with a thought provoking question. He asked the men, 'How much money would someone have to pay you to have anal sex?'

For clarification he added, 'Catching only'.

Well, after we got done laughing at the thought, there was great debate amongst the men. Buck apparently would go pretty cheaply at about $450, while some others were talking at least a million.

I, for once kept quiet. I'm sure I had that quiet, pensive look on my face and my right pointer finger rubbed its way across my bottom lip. Buck is the only person who seems to recognize that far off glaze in my eye and the finger move as my thinking pose.

The conversation continued with debate about what size you'd let in and how long it could last, etc. Naturally, the next discussion was oral. How much would convince you to give someone oral?

Almost everyone (ladies included) agreed that oral is much more intimate and would clearly command a bigger bounty. Those who disagreed debated, and we laughed our asses off.

My personal answer was, 'Whatever the market will bear....' I want to get a ridiculous amount of money for as little work as possible.

Of course, I was still thinking. What could I do that would be enough to take away my short term money stress and yet leave me with my dignity, health and reputation? HMMMM?

So, I think I'm going to look for a short-term sugar daddy. I was a sugar momma for years, but I did a terrible job. I'd even planned to sell my eggs to a fertility clinic until I was told I wasn't a good candidate (@$5k a pop, i could have quickly made a dent in my student loans).

So, what's left? A selling a kidney (which would totally eff up my triathlon plans) or whoring myself out. 'Cause being a barista at Starbucks isn't going to pay enough quickly enough.

{Note to Mom: No, I'm not going to sell myself. But it is an interesting business proposition.}

We Sing

2007-05-09T07:41:00.000-05:00

Those who've known me for a while know that I sing all the time. Mostly when I'm alone or with the boys, but often. It is a release, it is fun, and in my head I'm a rock star.

So, imagine the warm tears of joy when Karateboy mentioned in the van Monday evening that he learned a new song in music. Frere Jaques. Well, we sang it in French, sang it in English, I taught him how to sing it in a round....we're nerds. I was totally Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

All those hours I spent when he was a baby playing Mozart and lots of other kinds of music are paying off. When the boys beg to hear 'Move Along' by the All American Rejects or 'More' by Matthew West-- I'll play them on the one condition that they sing along and LOUDLY.

Karateboy knows all the boy parts from Moulin Rouge. He's Ewan McGregor and I get to be Nicole Kidman. I'm working on the Les Miserables soundtrack. I like to be Eponine in 'A Little Fall of Rain'. Yep. That's how I spend my free time. Making my sons show tune junkies!!

(For balance, they're learning Karate...really!!)

One of the best compliments I received recently was from the pastor at my old church who missed me singing in the band. It means a lot, because my history with competitive singing went a lot like my history with competitive spelling. The pressure killed me and I failed.

See, district chorus tryouts were tough. And as an alto, you get the harmony part of this REALLY HARD song. I knew it. I knew it inside and out. I just blew it. And what I had to sing was UGLY. I can't compete and sing something that doesn't move my soul!!!

Then, when I wanted a solo in the choir in high school, I had competition. Instead of letting us fight for it, or choosing one over the other, Mr. Locke decided that Molly Mather and I would split the solo. I practiced like crazy. I was ready.

When it was time, live, in concert, Molly came in several bars early. Thoroughly throwing a choir of 200 people off and completely ruining my moment. Curse you Molly !! (admittedly she was probably just as nervous as I was, and who could blame her. Actually she probably saved me some sort of public embarrassment.)

There were only two other times that I sang as a teenager and there is video somewhere to prove it. I sang 'Take My Breath Away' in the spring concert, which is totally not within my range but no one had the heart to tell me. And I sang something in one of the pageants I was in. I just don't remember what. I think it might have been The Rose. 'Cause I can do Bette Middler.

All that training I SWEAR has paid off in this triathlon thing. I think I had a much easier time learning to breathe than the others. Not really a sport, but a muscle exercised nonetheless!

Kind of funny that my favorite songs these days are heavy metal ones-- but I require the singers to actually sing. There must be lots of drum and screaming guitars. There can be SOME screaming, but mostly I'm in love with the melody. And the singing along. And I don't care if no one EVER wants to listen. It's just for me and I hope to pass that love onto the boys (I think I already have).

I'd love to learn to play piano and read music and tune my ear better. All in good time. All in good time.

Tribute to the Maven

2007-05-08T07:22:00.000-05:00

I get some of my best thinking done while I'm swimming these days. Today I started thinking about who would be the perfect person to be by my side for my first triathlon. I've been saying that I need two, maybe three. One to pick up the remnants of my bike after I wreck, one to hold my hand in the ambulance and one to kiss me at the finish line. I've let go of the last one, but I really think the 1st two are important.

It would have to be someone who is supportive and wouldn't even by accident make a comment that will deflate my somewhat tentative confidence. They need to think quickly and see what I need before I need it, and yet not afraid to 'manage me' when I get defensive, indignant and otherwise bitchy. It absolutely has to be someone who isn't going to hate me later. Someone whose mere presence would motivate me, and always have the right thing to do or say.

As I was swimming along...I was thinking those requirements fit the person I needed by my side when I was going to have my first baby. While I loved STBX, motivation isn't his strength, and let's face it, if I growled, I wasn't sure how he'd react. (in the end he was my absolute savior with breastfeeding so he gets points)

Of course, I chose Maven. She's one of those kinds of friends. Actually a one of a kind friend. Never over does it so much that you feel indebted to her, let's you do just enough that you feel like it's all even. She has saved my ass over the years in soooo many ways.

And I have failed miserably as a friend.

Her birthday was last week. Our schedules kept us apart, and I couldn't seem to find the most truly special thing I could to let her know how important she is to me (oh my God I'm misting). So I sent her a list of options. SHOULDN'T I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WANTS? WHAT KIND OF CRAPPY FRIEND AM I GIVING HER WORK LIKE THAT!! Then, I had house guests and a crammed schedule. And isn't it just like me not to check in on my favorite family? I found out Monday that she had been sick. I should have taken the time to bring chicken soup, but instead I played mini-golf.

So anyway, this is the blog post I SHOULD have written in honor of her birthday.

Maven is the friend who:

makes you dessert when you feel like your world will never be the same
stands back and lets you make a teeny fool of yourself because she knows that's the only way your gonna learn--- and gently makes sure you don't go overboard
shares a ton of secrets and jokes
saves my ass at work regularly by keeping me in the loop on stuff I don't get to see from the ivory tower
is my children's 'Safe Side Adult' and I absolutely trust her implicitly with their care and welfare
amazingly loves me no matter what I do or say
wanted to be my friend at a time when not many people wanted to hang with STBX and I
introduced me to a whole community of people that love me for me
shows me by example how to balance being a woman and a professional and a mother
shares her home, her food, her children, and yes, her husband-- willingly and with an open heart
thinks about how fantastic your sassy new hair cut is while she can't seem to sleep at night
brings you a dress she loves from her own closet because she thinks it will fit you perfectly
is always adapting and changing and growing in the most amazing ways
even though we don't agree on everything provides an easy sort of friendship-- without the drama
brings the bourbon slushies to every event
I could keep going for hours

So, happy belated birthday Maven. Thanks for everything.

(if you must comment, please comment on her blog-- send her the love!!)

Monday Update

2007-05-07T07:43:00.000-05:00

So, where did I leave off with White TShirt guy?

Here is the summary: Two lonely pissed off people looking to have fun, hang out and process this divorce shit with someone who completely understands. It's like a fix, and while I look forward to more TShirt time, I'm happy to have my routine back. He's back home dealing with personal stuff and I don't know when we'll get a chance to hang again.

Friday and the rest of the weekend I hosted a troup of girl scouts from northeastern Pennsylvania. Their fearless leader is one of my dearest friends, and it saves them boatload of money to stay at my house rather than a hotel. She's the kind of friend you can hand the keys to your house to at any moment and know you'll come back to it better than you left it. She's just that kind of woman. So comforting to know that she's taken so much of her time to get into this fantastic organization that shapes the minds of young women.

And what a group of young women it was! I often forgot they were teenagers (much to the dismay of the leaders :-) ). The second leader I hope becomes a friend as much as the first, I really, really enjoyed her. I enjoyed the girls...it was truly a fantastic experience.

I did learn something about myself, though. I have always been the kind of person that MUST be surrounded by crowds of people. I generally have no personal space needs and frequently invade those of others. However, I noticed this weekend, I actually need some downtime. Not necessarily ME time, but I was exhausted, not from the walking or anything, but just from being engaged. Imagine, there are introverted cells in this body.

I really had a difficult time with the patience, understanding and democratic process involved with Girl Scouts. My 'you snooze, you lose' attack approach to life wouldn't fit here. It wasn't because I wasn't in charge, necessarily, because I did everything I wanted. It was just exhausting watching the leaders research options, present options, lead a vote on options and then explain themselves 9 times, 9 different ways.

Such is the life of parenting teenage girls, I guess.

Thank God they were bright and funny and beautiful and a pure joy to be around. It was such a gift that I felt like a nudge for dumping out early on Saturday to rest up for Sunday's workout. We were going to run together on Saturday, but we stayed up really, really late and didn't make it. But some day, we're going to do it, and I'm going to love it. I'm excited to see what the next generation of women will do when it's their turn to be in the lead....this group something special.

Then the boys came home and I had to squeeze a whole day of lovin' into an hour. Tippy asked me to take off his training wheels. There was nothing I could do to change his mind. So I did. And I let him fall in the grass a few times. And he decided he liked his training wheels.

Karateboy thought it would be fun to pee on the pine tree in front of the house, but his father caught him, and he spend the rest of the evening in his room. It isn't like we don't have indoor plumbing.....

I'm so happy to be at work so I can rest......

I survived...and I CAN'T WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN!!

2007-05-06T15:53:00.000-05:00

I survived....and I CAN'T WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN!

OK, sure...great few days with White TShirt, loads of fun hosting the girl scout troup from PA, but I'm talking about today. Those other things are for other posts.

This morning was my first full triathlon workout. That is, 1000 yard swim, 17.5 mile bike, 5k run.

When I was a kid in NEPA, the Super Dooper Looper roller coaster was new at Hershey Park. All the coolest kids rode it and got these neat shirts that said, 'I Survived the Super Dooper Looper'--- I soooo wanted one of those shirts.

That thought kept me giggling through the toughest parts, because I want a shirt that says 'I Survived the Iron Girl'.

So, I finished in less than three hours. The only part that didn't simulate the actual race conditions was the swim was in a pool at the gym and you got to rest driving to the bike route. Oh, and of course, there weren't 1799 other people along side me.

So I swam the 40 laps. What do you think about while you're swimming for a half an hour? First and foremost I'm thinking about my stroke, and how many strokes per lane. I'm paying attention to my breathing and reminding myself to slow down. I slowed down a lot and it took me an extra minute or so to do the 400(which is the distance for my 1st race in June)-- I didn't care because I had anohter 600 to go. Other thoughts snuck into my head, stuff from last week, funny things people said, and thinking through work stuff for next week. Lists, I make lots of lists.

After the swim, I put on dry clothes...you don't get to do that in a race! It was not easy to get dressed...cycling clothes and running clothes are tight and they don't go easily on a wet body.
In the car, I ate something quickly and cranked up the music, but CRAP! Forgot my IPOD!!! Oh, the radio, I guess...meh!

Got to the park, parked, realized it was 50 freakin' degrees! That's cold when you ride a bike and COLDER when you're still wet from a swim. So I put on as many layers as possible and hopped on my bike. I took the slow and steady approach, enjoyed the downhills even though my nose was running and it was COOOOOOLD! (lucky I had my knit elmo gloves in the car-- but now they're in the laundry 'cause I had to wipe my nose on them-- and the sleeve of my jacket)
Killed the hills, got passed by my team mates who are doing the longer triathlon. We talked as they blew by me...oh well. What was I thinking while I rode totally alone? Sunscreen. I forgot sunscreen. Oh crap, shift. Not with that finger STUPID! Pointer finger means EASY middle finger HARDER!! Stupid! Shift back shift BAAAAACK! Ahh....downhill...FUCK IT's COLD. I forgot chapstick. My lips hurt. Damn! Another hill!!!

It was cold at traffic lights, it was cold on the downhills. Ugh! Got to take it easy to save my legs for running.

I hate the running. You know how I hate the running. But, I could sit at my car and whine or I could suck it up and get it over with. So I chose the latter.

Of course, my MP3 with new batteries didn't work AGAIN...but I ran alone, and got one 'you go momma' from a lady who was walking with her kids. I sorta missed running into my team and was only able to give a couple of people shit.

I did see a beautiful cardinal. That was nice. But my legs were screaming. I did it. I finished.
I came home, took a bath, then a nap.

I can't tell you how much I love pushing myself this way and how much I'd hate to go back to my regular life.....ahhhhhhhh.

New Blog

2007-05-05T19:39:00.000-05:00

I've been seriously considering the new blog for quite some time. I need privacy. And he needs to get his own fucking life.

So, e-mail me suggestions for names and if you want to be on the list once I get it up and running... esmerelda05@gmail.com

Everything I think of, I know he'd think to search on it...the prick.

Happy Friday!!

2007-05-04T08:41:00.000-05:00

'Tis the triumphant return of Hot Monkey Sex Friday. With no particular topic to discuss today, I'd just like to review the insane amounts of alcohol I've had over the last few days. I still managed to get my sorry ass to work, and be a good mom, and hang with HIM.

It's a shame that pain in the ass X husband of mine wants to be so far up my ass that he reads this. I really hate having to hide what I have to say.

Enjoy your weekend, I'll definitely be smiling.

So....how'd it go...

2007-05-03T08:36:00.000-05:00

Yes, I've gotten lots of questions from ya'll, so here is the update.

We ended up having lunch, lolling on my patio for a bit, then to the mall for some light shopping. At some point we decided that mini golf sounded like fun, so off to the links. But first, we changed into our new clothes in the parking lot (we were wearing jeans and it was hot and he'd bought some shorts and I'd bought a skirt). Good times.

We had a blast. Nothing like playing hookey on a sunny afternoon and hanging with a friend. One of the 'water features' had what appeared to be several thousand tadpoles. So when we were done, we caught some and brought them home for the boys. If anyone has tadpole raising advice, I'd love the help. We'll be making a trip to the library today and surfing wikipedia.

We finished up in time for me to pick up the kids and get to kickbal. Excellent games. The rowdiest yet. He came to watch us play, and a few of us went for drinks afterward.

I don't drink often, but I knew he'd make sure I got home, so 5 or so margarita's later my other team mates called it a night. That's when HE took me to another bar.

Mind you, I'm wearing my kickball clothes, I'm sweaty and my hair is in pigtails. We're at this club on ladies night where everyone else is dressed to the nines. I HAD A BLAST! It is so much more fun to go out like that when you don't give a shit.

So, we stumbled in around 1. And talked for a while. And somehow I ended up laying on the couch in his arms. We slept that way most of the night. It was nice. I think we both sort of needed it. No groping or anything that would perk up GMan's ears. Just laying.

At some point, I thought I heard the boys, so I went upstairs and crawled into my bed. He woke up with us this morning and we talked for a while.

I logged back into myspace and deleted the message I sent asking him if he WANTED to be the guy in the white shirt. I don't want to know in advance. Too much crap is up in the air and I like being able to speak freely and fart when I have to. And I could use a friend to let my hair down with. And if it is HIM that's fine.

*****Thursday afternoon update*********
We had lunch (I'm working a full day, of course) and I got back to the office to find that he'd received the myspace question asking if he WANTED to be the guy in the white shirt. In essence, he said he did, and I responded 'GOOD'. And it made me smile. And blush.

OH, and for those of you confused by the whole, 'friend who is staying at my house' thing. He lives several hours away. He has some stuff to do in town, and rather than drive home and back again, he asked to crash at my place and hang out between meetings. So I said SURE! Just like I'd do for any of you. While we've spent a lot of time chatting online, and we'd met in the past, our meetings were so long ago neither of us remembers, but we move in the same circles and know the same people. So it isn't like he's a stranger with a key to my house. Just a friend I hand't totally met yet.

This is what high school must be like.

2007-05-02T08:43:00.000-05:00

I'm considering removing the man repellent out coating I added about 8 weeks ago.

And I feel like a naked retard. And I want keep it on, and maybe add a layer in case I get stupid.

Why oh WHY can't I just be friends without wanting to...well...make it more...?? This friend is crashing at my house while he takes care of some business locally. We would have partied this weekend (given it is a kid-free weekend) but I'd already agreed to hotel a group of girlscouts from my friend Jaybird's troop as they visit DC.

It is so much safer in my hard candy shell. Really. Happy there. I know the rules, I'm in charge, I'm CONFIDENT in that shell. The sweet, oooey, gooey center doesn't serve me well in these instances. I have too much blinding, serene hope-- and mindless stupid romantic notions.

So I made up an excuse about needing to be in work today. Then I wavered. And I checked my schedule. Two meetings, I could be out by noon. But I still wasn't committed.

I mentioned it to someone at work who suggested that I immediately cancel the freakin' meetings and go hang with my friend....hard candy shell aside, he'd be a blast to do something with on a warm spring afternoon.

And I can't concentrate because he's said several times that he thinks the guy in the 'Melting Waking Dream' is him. I, of course, played it off. And he work a crisp white t shirt yesterday. And we went for drinks and talked for HOURS (which really isn't a stretch for me but it has been a long time).

It was all I could do not to cuddle up next to him on the couch last night. I can't tell you how I wanted to smell that shirt. Feel that feeling. But I didn't. And ya'll know what a big deal it is for me NOT to do exactly what I want to at the exact moment that I want to.

So I sent him a message on myspace this morning that asked, 'Do you WANT to be the guy in the white shirt?' Which totally blows that outer candy shell layer of rejection protection. Well, even scarier, what if he says yes. THEN WHAT? (it is sort of funny that he's in my house on my couch on my laptop getting that message)

I left him a VM that I'm out of here at noon. I'm going to do my meetings and get outta here. And hopefully have a great afternoon.

{gasp!} Either way it will be good. I wish I could recall that message. WHERE THE EFF DID MY OUTER COVERING GO?

I'm scheduling a panic attack at 12PM. Or, I'll go home and try to play it cool and it will be a Saturday night live skit. I'm retarded. Absolutely in 9th grade and retarded.

How Do I Reward Me?

2007-05-01T08:38:00.000-05:00

Had a less than stellar swim workout this morning. I just couldn't find my groove. Probably because I only did one swim workout in the last week. You need frequency to keep up the skills.

But Wednesday night kickball wrecks my Thursday morning swim. What to do? Give up sleeping in on Friday? OH MY!

So I think I'm going to give myself a chore chart. Let the boys give me stars every time I work out. With a goal of 8 workouts a week, and two bonus spaces. So, each sport twice is 6 workouts, plus two spin classes, and maybe an extra bike ride or run or weight class thrown in.

But, do I give myself weekly rewards? What reward will get me to the gym at 5AM on a Friday to swim 1000 or so yards??? We're closing in on the critical 6 weeks before the first triathlon. So I need to step it up, if not remain consistent with my program. Not a time for slacking. Slacking is for September.

Of course the end reward are the triathlons....but hmmmm. How should I reward me...what is better than sleeping on a Friday morning?

Another Gift from STBX

2007-04-29T14:14:00.000-05:00

For those of you who don't go back and read comments from old posts....I'd like to call this one to your attention:

Eyore_is_DEAD said...
This is the things I hate about you. You could run and blog that his bike was stole but you could even call his father. That why your a bitch and so &*#$ing happy I'm not with you anymore. And you think i like have to see you face as much as i do. You are self-centered and truely only care about yourself. Because if you didn't you would have called at the time it happened.
6:40 PM

Ain't he a PEACH?

Damn it.

2007-04-28T14:57:00.000-05:00

This post will be rife with foul language.

Some goddamn mutherfucker cocksucking little maggot stole my son's bike.

Yes, it was a $15 bike we bought at a yard sale. But it sat in the garage all winter and he begged to ride it. Until his dad finally got around to fixing the flat tire last week. He's got a fancy Schwinn Stingray, and while he looks FANTASTIC riding the cul-de-sac, he can't go very far because he can't really get up out of the seat.

So we bought the shiny red bike at the yard sale.

Today, Tippy was in the stroller, I was walking and Karateboy was riding his shiny red bike. We decided to make a quick stop at the Giant before heading home. We forgot a lock. It was a beautiful day.

Yes, yes, yes, I know it was dumb to leave it in front of the grocery store, but he couldn't bring it in the store, and I couldn't leave him outside. I suppose we could have skipped the store, but that sounds so dumb. I mean, this is COLUMBIA.

But nothing is safe. Karateboy cried all the way home from the store. I cried with him. I couldn't help it. They were deep, painful cries of the loss of a beloved new bike. He sniffled and said he was trying not to cry. I told him to let it all out.

I told Karateboy that the creep that stole his bike probably needed it more than he did. I really wanted to smack the crap out of someone.

At first, Karateboy didn't want me to take a violent, vengeful approach. (Funny, some of my parenting is actually working.) Later he agreed that it would be OK if I smacked him when I took the bike back. Of course we discussed that violence was not the answer.

Then I told him if I found the little creep, I was going to beat him to a pulp and rip off his ears.

My Evil Plan

2007-04-27T10:54:00.000-05:00

My evil plan worked! Neener, Neener, NEEEEENER!

I've only raised a little over $400 for Walkamerica (which is THIS Sunday).

Which is significantly short of my $1,000 goal.

But that's OK, because I've doubled what I normally raise. And I don't have to run.

YIPEE! ME!

Then again, you could still donate and put me over the top.

http://www.walkamerica.org/anthonysmom2000

Melting Waking Dream

2007-04-26T07:32:00.000-05:00

I could smell the fabric softener on his cotton shirt. For some reason, I know it's a white T shirt, even though my eyes are closed and I can't see anything. I can feel my face press against the soft cotton, tucking my cheek into that little space between his chest muscles.

He must be about 6' tall given where my head hits his chest. His arms are strong and wrap around my back in a gentle, firm hold. And I keep smelling the shirt mixed with the smell of him. Not musky, not describable, but just the smell that tells my brain it is OK to relax and let THIS person hold me for a minute.

His left hand strokes my hair every so often while his right rubs my back lightly....alternating squeezes.

He's comforting me for some reason. Am I crying? Who is this guy? I'm relatively sure that no one this tall has EVER held me like this. So this can't be from memory, and I don't know anyone...hmmmm. Curious.

Why do I feel like I could melt into those arms and crawl right into that little space where my cheek is resting. He sighs, I take a deep, long breath. Then a teeny contented sigh.

When I try to break away, he pulls me closer. Yep, this is that melting feeling again. Of totally losing yourself in the safety of another's arms. There goes the hand back to the hair. When his palm sort of cradles my head in that spot right below the base of my skull where my spine starts, I tingle. He rubs is fingers around just a little. He plays with my hair.

There is nothing else in this waking dream but the sounds of our breathing. I guess I'm not crying...at least not anymore. But I can smell him, his shirt, I can feel his arms and his back...

I can feel my arms actually start to ache a little because they're jealous of this, they want to return the hug. It wakes me a bit and I roll over.

I guess I dozed back to sleep in this warm cuddly haze because later, he was lying down, and I was nestled in that space by his shoulder this time. Same smells, same feeling, same sounds, except I was rested and content this time. Just melting.

Even though I'm in bathed in the fluorescent brightness of my office, and can smell what someone just burnt in the toaster oven, I can close my eyes, take a deep breath and still smell him and go right back into that dream a little bit.

This was probably inspired by something from last night's kickball game. My shirt smelled really clean and right after thinking that, I looked at the next field and a guy was hugging a girl. I just remember thinking that that was really nice. I bet that's where this came from. And it bubbled in my sub-conscious all night.

I wonder if a little part of me doesn't want to forget what that kind of closeness feels like. It's a nice little movie I'm probably going to play in my head all day. {sigh}

Inspiration

2007-04-24T20:18:00.000-05:00

Well. I've got plenty of friends.

Transitgrrrl (see post below) actually wrote another post. I encouraged her to start her own blog. I'll link her here when she gets up and running. If I run out of ideas, I'll post her update soon. But I'm hoping she'll get her but going fast.

Buck Nekkid started his own blog, too. Thoughtsthatrunbetweentwoears is Buck's take on the world, started as an outlet (like so many of the rest of us) during a somewhat turbulent time in his life. Today's post was really nice, so please check it out.

Me? I get inspired for things I want to tell you about all the time. Yesterday, I finally broke down and brought a sweet new bike. I finally took it for a ride today. STBX was here and smirked that I spent money. He has no idea how important succeeding at this is for me. I really wish I didn't have to be around him so often.

Riding outside is a new kind of freedom for me. I can't wait to kick that hill's ass on Thursday and again on Saturday. It IS all about the bike. Lance was wrong. I bet he couldn't get up that freakin' hill on my old bike.

Tonight I end in a really reflective mood. It is like I'm checking things off a list in my head and each time I place a check mark, I'm a little more content. I've got a routine, I've got my boys, I have kickball, tri training, my friends....I'll looking forward to the next several weekends of fantastic summer fun.

Content. Exhalllllle. This is what it's all about, and the bumps? They're not so bad.

The Public Transportation Theory of Deciding When and Whom to Marry

2007-04-23T12:00:00.000-05:00

****TransitGrrrl is new to the blogosphere and is quite opinionated on all subjects that involve dating and men. This is her take on how men marry. ENJOY!*************

Most women (at least I'll only speak for myself here) wait until they meet the RIGHT one. Among men, I have noticed a trend. They decide they are getting married and the NEXT one that comes along, they hog-tie with an engagement ring and a line of bullshit that they tell themselves and the hog-tied party in question. And voila! They're married. This concept has been discussed on "Sex and the City" so I know I'm not the only one who's noticed this one. It's like I decide I want to go somewhere, so I go to the bus stop and wait for the RIGHT bus to come along. Some men decide they want to get on a bus, so they go to the bus stop and get on the NEXT paying no mind to where it's going. Doesn't matter. They just had to get on a bus now. Thing is, they probably convinced the woman that he IS the RIGHT bus so she'd let him board. Me? If the bus isn't going where I want to go, I wait for the next one. If there's a problem and I know I'm going to wind up being late, I take an alternate means of transportation --- a clear sign that I was off-track in my choice of a destination.

Metaphors aside.

Twelve years ago when I moved to the city I dated a guy that I was quite taken with. Had the relationship continued, I would have let him board. In fact, I was hoping it would go that way, until my birthday that year. He was an asshole to me. I'll spare you the details, let's just leave it at that. He was an asshole. I called him up the next day and brought up his behavior in question from the night before. The response I got was basically, I was an asshole for bringing it up. Dictionary definition of passive aggressive. I do something shittie to you, and when you bring it up, I make you wrong for speaking up for yourself. So we broke up, and I was broken-hearted. I really liked this guy. He did have other qualities that were good. Fast forward a month later. He is planning a big surprise birthday party for a mutual professional acquaintance of ours. I was surprised to hear from him. We hadn't spoken. The conversation went on for quite a while. During it, he confessed how "unmarried" he was feeling since his ex-girlfriend was going to be coming to the party with her new fiancee/husband. I guess this was my clue that he wanted to get on a bus and I was potentially the NEXT available one. There was no apology for his behavior, though. I didn't ask for one either. So after he ignores me at this party, I spend the next few months broken-hearted and upset and cursing his existence and wishing him bad dating/love karma. And guess what? During that time he met the woman he would marry and have a child with.

Fast forward about 10 years.

Through a series of serendipitous events that seem to only occur in New York, I came into contact with him again, we became friends and hire each other on jobs now. I've let go of what happened back then and we're actually quite close. Thank God I'm only half-Sicilian and can let go of a grudge eventually. The ex in question is now going through mediation with his wife and trying to figure out custody issues with their 5-year old daughter. Turns out that after she had the baby, she went into a bad post-partum depression that hasn't lifted in 5 years and she refuses to get help. They haven't had sex in years and have had separate bedrooms for a while now. My ex at one point recorded their conversations at home to bring to his counselor because he feared he was going crazy. She compulsively cleans their massive house and spends most of the time in her room when he is home. He describes it "like having an imaginary live-in housekeeper." I feel bad for him and especially for their daughter. This has been going on for a while and the laws in New York state do not favor the father when it comes to primary custody.

So on one hand, I have to laugh at the fact that while I was sending him all this bad mojo, he met a woman who would come to torture him about 100 times worse that what he did to me and in a long-protracted manner. It makes me realize that I really shouldn't wish things I wouldn't want to happen on my worst enemy on anyone. It really does come true. I never knew that it did, but how often are you actually privy to how an ex-boyfriend's life turns out, or doesn't?

And on the other hand, I realize that she was just the NEXT bus and he probably just convinced her to let him board. I was too much work to board since I was not about to give him a pass for bad behavior. Part of me wonders if he would have married me and then the thought of having spent the past 10-12 years putting up with passive aggressive behavior and shittie birthdays snaps me out of it.

The silver lining in this cloud is that I am able to be friends with this guy all these years later because he's changed. Rare to see, but true. After having a child and being her primary care-giver and dealing with an insane wife, he has become much more caring and humble. He used to be so arrogant it wasn't even funny.And another part of me wonders whether or not he would have gotten married if his ex-girlfriend (the one prior to me) didn't move in with someone else within 3 weeks of leaving him and gotten engaged and married within the year. I think it's an easy trap to fall into --- making huge life decisions based on all the wrong reasons. This is why I'm still unmarried at 32. When I think about it, I realize how incredibly stupid it would be to jump into getting married to just keep up with the exes, but so many people do it. And, by the way, my ex's ex got divorced within about 5 years of getting married! I sometimes wonder why even some of the most intelligent people I know make decisions about love and marriage based on the most trivial and surface reasons and here's what I came up with. I think that really soul searching for what you want and having the belief in your heart that you deserve it and trusting that the universe will deliver is much scarier for most than getting married to look good to friends, family and society and then subsequently going through a shittie protracted divorce and custody battle. I also think that being single in New York for the past 12 years has been no picnic either, but I know in my heart had I married any of the guys I had dated, we would have wound up divorced hence why I always said no. So I keep working on defining what I want and believing that I deserve it.

The latter seems to be much tougher than the prior.

Recently, I met someone that I really, really like. This doesn't happen all that often. I could really see myself falling in love with him and spending the rest of my life with him, based on what I know about him so far and how he has been treating me up until now. If things keep going in the direction they are, I'll probably want him to board the bus. Very handsome, smart, successful trial attorney with all his hair. Plus we have what I would call tractor-beam attraction. I woke up the other morning because he was laying next to me with a hard-on without him even touching me. Pheromones. Man. Pheromones. Here's the catch. We've been dating a month and his ad is still active on match.com and he has logged in within 24 hours. I've been checking this ever since he told me that he didn't want to see other women. Now, we've only been dating a month so it's perfectly fine to be seeing other people at this point. If that's the agreement. Even though we're sleeping together I have no problem with this. At this point we really don't know each other. So, today I get to have a conversation with him about this. This is usually where things break down. Because I refuse to sell out on myself and I'm aware of the fact that if I let things like this slide, it will set the tone for the entire relationship and I'll create my own prison of a bad relationship.

I'll let you all know how it turns out, and whether he's at the bus stop or not.

TransitGrrrl

There's No Place Like Home

2007-04-22T16:54:00.000-05:00

I'm back. Refreshed and rejuvenated from my 24 hour whirlwind visit to NYC. A good time was had by all. My friend is even writing a guest post on her thoughts on dating. Stay tuned. She and I were like several episodes of Sex in the City, with only two women, no dates and not nearly the wardrobe budget.

Jokes aside, one of my favorite moments was re-boarding the Chinatown bus to return to Baltimore. At least one seat in every row was taken. I looked 3 young women about my age right in the eye and I announced, "there are no more seats where I could sit alone. There are more people coming on this bus. I'm clean and smart and nice. Would you rather make room to sit with me, or roll the dice and see what's behind door number two?"

There was a flurry of 'you can sit here's' thrown at me so fast I had choices. I love being brazen. It makes me feel so powerful. Maybe because I was wearing my supergirl underwear. Buck, close your eyes, you will not approve of what you're about to see. There is nothing at all attractive about it.

My friend Genius took the picture with her Treo so this is the image she'll see every time I call. Aren't old friends the best? :-D

..taking a nibble of the BIG APPLE

2007-04-22T08:09:00.000-05:00

So, after much wrangling and drama Friday afternoon, I decided that I would indeed visit my old friend from college, Genius.

It's one of those friendships where we wouldn't talk for months, then with one quick call or visit, we'd be giggling like schoolgirls over everything. One of those friendships, where, (since I have no eye for details some days) I could totally miss that she's had her nose redone. She was Genius after all, and I see HER, her essence, not caring about the size of her schnoz. (Truth be told, it was the long blond hair that had thrown me). She had been so looking forward to my reaction because it had totally changed her life, but I didn't even notice. She wasn't offended, well aware of my ways...when I explained that I ALWAYS thought she was beautiful.

Anyway, for $20 and some patience, you can hop a bus any time of day from Baltimore to NYC. The bus was hot, and there was no toilet paper, and traffic sucked because it was a Saturday afternoon. At 4PM, I arrived in the BIG APPLE! City....here I come!

It wasn't quite the 'hat throwing in the air' moment I thought it would be. We were outside Macy's. Which is always a tread because it's gigantic AND has the most beautiful old escalators. Otherwise, just like the Macy's at home and except home doesn't usually have 25 person deep lines for fitting rooms and checkout. Meh. No shirt is THAT cute.

I hate the branding of America. It is getting harder and harder to go new places and actually find something NEW. I mean, there is a level of comfort knowing you can find things you know and trust wherever you go. HOWEVER, I like to travel to see new things. Otherwise I'd stay home.

When I caught up with her, we went immediately to a wholesale costume jewelry store. BINGO! I thought of 10 women for whom the trip to the city would be worth it if nothing else just to go to this store. I got several pairs of earrings, a bracelet, and two necklaces for about $30. It totally rocks.

We also ventured into this store called Lush .
A store chock full of yummy soaps and body lotions...all hand made-all fancifully priced- all great smelling.

We walked and talked and laughed. It was FANTASTIC. Love the people watching. Except the guy at the ice cream place. He had been apparently on the streets for so long, that his smell preceded him. He was very overweight, and was holding his pants up with one hand. You could see much more of his skin than you wanted to, and it was dried and brown and cracked like a mud puddle that dried quickly in the sun. Vomit inducing gross. But he was enjoying his cone. More power to him!

Genius and I mostly talked about men and dating. She's been single all this time and I've been married. Now she's been seeing this guy for about a month and is totally into him, and he is into her. We talked about how funny it is to see us switching roles...I'm single and she's in a relationship.

I'm enjoying her minimalist apartment with no toys on the floor, and cleanliness as far as the eye can see. Ahh...surely I'll be happy back in my own personal chaos later today.

Just for the record. Yesterday I rode 17 miles, ran about 2.5, then WALKED NYC from 4PM to 10:30 PM. I'm tired people.

Oh Genius just woke up. Hope she doesn't mind that I used her laptop. But I've been up for HOURS!! (it's 9:26AM)

Anyway, I'm hoping we have food soon, and head back to the bus. Not quite the hell raising weekend you'd think, but a change of scenery and pace and a good friend. Well spent.

...and I kicked it's ASS!!!

2007-04-21T09:38:00.000-05:00

All week, I've been psyching myself up to ride those hills again. And I did it. So for fun, the coach threw in an extra hill.

See, I'd been practicing in my mind all week exactly when to shift on the hills. And counting while I road to the top.

I know I can do a 5 minute hill in spin class, so if it takes me less than 5 minutes to get to the top of the hill, I'm well within my comfort zone, right? So I count. If I get to 200 (which is just past three minutes) then I can take a break and walk the bike. Of course, these are baby hills and I barely get to 150. So I did it.

Except the extra hill which was steeper and longer and I didn't practice it. So my mind wasn't in the right place.....ooooh but next time....

So I did 17 miles in an hour and a half, which is up from the 14 last week in the same time, and I ran two and a half miles after. I've discovered Cytomax, an energy drink. Which is why I have the stamina to type at this very moment.I wonder when I'll crash.

After I did the last very tough hill, some other cyclists were coming from the opposite direction. As they saw me crest the hill, mouth hanging open, hunched over and pedaling for my life, they cheered for me and told me I did a good job. I got a little teary. It was beautiful. I love these people. I would imagine that any of you who saw me 'kill the hills' would do the same. {{sheepish grin}} So I will not let you down. I will kill again next week.

Anyway, today's lesson, kids is defeat is all in your head. Once you get over that, you're golden.

The Return of the SUN!

2007-04-20T20:58:00.000-05:00

Yes, not only was it 73 degrees here today in Columbia, Maryland...it was SUNNY!!!

Oh, and I'm feeling sunny, too. I even wore a yellow shirt today to help boost my mood.

I thought of a fun conversation I'd like to have with ya'll. Sort of like the comedian that says, 'You know your a redneck if....', my version is:

You Know he's an Internet Scumbag if (in no particular order):

he e-mails you a picture of his penis-- oh, if I had a fiver for every dick I've had the pleasure of seeing in my in box. I deleted them before i thought it would be fun to make a fanciful and artsy collage of them
he only e-mails/messages you between 9 and 5 - That means one of two things, either he's too cheap and stupid to have access at home or there is someone else at home
he wants to talk dirty to you during the day from a work e-mail- dumbass will soon be unemployed as well..forward his messages to the company president. C'mon you can find their name on their web site and if there is no 'contact us' link, you can figure out the e-mail convention. Just do it.
you never really get a picture of his face-- dude's got problems, not that he looks bad necessarily, but he's hiding something.
when he says, "people tell me I'm good looking"- good looking people know it. Trust me.
they get pissy if you don't reply fast enough- denotes the severe lack of a life. at work or at home, you get interrupted. you don't always have time to 'brb'. Get over it.
you have more questions than answers-- parts of the story don't add up, you must subtract
he butters you up like a hot biscuit at a Southern Baptist Fried Chicken Dinner- see, if he's kissing you're ass, you trust him faster and forget, in your haze of emptiheadedness to ask him questions.
if he uses annoying shortcuts and slang- 'prolly' and 'u' ...I have a whole pile of them in my deleted items. You want to talk to someone who can carry on a conversation like YOU'D carry on a conversation. Maybe not all spell checked and in complete sentences, but complete thoughts are nice. Spelling 'probably' and 'prolly' -- only a two key stroke difference you lazy ass.
if he asks what you like and 'cheesecake' isn't seemingly a good enough answer- yes, Buck Nekkid may have finally drilled into my thick head that most single guys just want sex, but some of them really want a conversation first and if you're lucky after. When Mr. Internet goes straight to sex. That's really all he wants. Cool if that's what you want to. But ask him for his latest STD test results, and for the LOVE OF GOD, make him wrap that thing.
I'm in a committed relationship- if he drops that bomb at your first meeting, he's asking, 'Can we still fuck? 'cause I'm OK with it if you are' - again, nothing skeeves me out more than someone who lies and cheats, no matter how not they are or how sure I am they'll rock my world.

Feel free to add your own concessions here. I bet you all have far, far more. If you have more than one or two, consider this a challenge for a response list of your own. I'll link to you here if you let me know!

Intervention

2007-04-19T16:19:00.000-05:00

My friend, Immigrantwife, has staged an intervention. I was embarrassed and teary at the end. But I could use a good cry. My acupuncturist told me it would be good for me.

My half-assed attempts at making new friends are 'trying too hard'. Because only when your single is there such a thing as 'trying too hard'. You can never try too hard in sports, or in parenting, or at work. Name one thing where that's good advice, other than being lonely.

This is not about finding a man, I'd love a female in the same situation to hang with. One that isn't going to swoop in and try to date everyone I make eye contact with and/or spread the word that I'm a whore. If only TXGAMBIT didn't live in Texas, or Melissa, or Sizzle.

Doing anything that involves Craig's list is apparently stupid and naive, and as romantic as it sounds that posting something on 'Missed Connections' might actually start a conversation with that cute guy I saw is even stupider. Welcome to the real world of sleazy people and dumbasses. Apparently I am their inadvertent queen. I need to take a shower to wash off that slime. Because I believed. I walked right into their trap and missed a whole conversation of subtext that I was involved in, but I had no freakin' clue. I couldn't possibly be that stupid. And yet, here I am.

I learned that even the nice man who was sitting at the table next to you with his lovely wife, who messaged you to say they saw both of you and hoped it worked out....he sent you his weight, height, general physical description and stats. There are no nice people who respond to such things. Airheads like me thought he was genuine, and held onto his e-mail so I could chirpily report that he responded but it wasn't a match....dumbass. You didn't need a physical description for that. Like Immigrantwife said, he's lookin' for a little on the side.

So, I'm backing away from the mouse....slowly Immigrantwife, I'm stepping away. I'm going to down a shot of cynicism with my glass of bitterness and anger today. Tomorrow, we'll return to our regularly scheduled Suzie Sunshineyness. I hear you loud and clear-- patience and blazing, serene, hope.

Tomorrow, we can intervene on Buck Nekkid and get him to stop shopping for babies online. Because it isn't all about me. His beloved dog died this weekend. That's a whole different kind of pain.

It Doesn't Make You a Bad Mother....

2007-04-19T07:31:00.000-05:00

However well intentioned those words are....no matter how strong we are as women or as confident we may be in our ability to parent....it strikes a chord. At least for me it does.

Last night was our first kickball game of the season. If any of you EVER have the chance to take part in this, don't miss it. Really. Most adult leagues are too serious. You cannot be serious about kicking an 8.5 inch rubber ball. You get to run around a bit, do the whole sporty high- fiving, getting the blood pumping. And if you're really lucky the game is followed by drinks.

But I digress...

I could not get a babysitter for the boys, and they really wanted to come. Taco Bell (dinner of champions) in hand, we brought balls and games and lots of stuff to keep them occupied. There was, however, a playground just on the other side of some trees.

A member of my church was walking her dog, and I asked her about the safety of the playground, the tone of the general area, and if she thought they'd be ok playing there. She re-assured me that they'd be just fine, I should let them play. She even offered to hang around a bit with her dog and keep an eye on them.

The boys wear bright orange coats, trimmed in blue, and are quite loud. So I knew pretty much where they were and could see them when they came out from under the play equipment.

Another mother arrived later, and I asked if she'd seen them on the playground.

To which she immediately questioned my decision and marched herself up the hill and brought them back from the playground. I'm not even going to replay what she said.

I applaud her protective nature. I see the same thing in other friends who gasp at the freedom I allow my children. My decision to be a little more relaxed is a conscious one and I have my own reasons for it. But I was pissed. I'd done all that I thought was right and I was comfortable. Tippy is so attached to me that he comes to hug me every five minutes any way.

As she walked over there, I secretly hoped that they wouldn't remember her and start screaming 'you're not my mommy' from the Safe Side video....that would have been precious. Although, they did remember her as my friend, and she was walking them right to me.

After the game we were discussing it, and someone kindly offered that comfort, 'It doesn't make you a bad mother...' . And it stung. It stings when you quesiton yourself. 'Cause what if something DID happen?

It made me think a little bit.

I'm not a bad mother for making a decision that I'm comfortable with. It isn't like I'm letting them play with just a little fire. Parents do their thing with whatever makes them comfortable. I'm much more relaxed than most. My kids tend to get into trouble more than most. I'm fully aware, thankyouvermuch.

I feel like they're getting cheated out of the beautiful innocence we had as children....to run and play at 7 years old and know to be home when the street lights come on.

Don't get me wrong, I'm protective. When I lived in a town house by a busy suburban DC highway, I was vigilant. I'd herd all three kids in the house if I had to pee. I arranged with neighbors so we could take turns cooking dinner while the kids played out front.

Lest we not forget the DC Sniper. Three months of pure terror where I had two disabled kids that HAD TO RUN just about every day or they'd lose their minds, in addition to Karateboy who was maybe 3 at the time. Remember, he was killing people close to highways, and I lived close to a highway. I was in the garage trying to figure out how I could build a shield for them as they walked from the house to the car. I'm not kidding.

So I'm vigilant when I think I need to be, and relaxed when I think I need to be. I'm not pissed at her any more, but I really didn't have are response. It seemed like everything I wanted to say would look defensive and petty. I was willing to take the calculated risk. Besides, any kidnapper would return them quickly.

It's not like I was passing them a joint or something.

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

2007-04-18T07:35:00.000-05:00

I asked you a direct question last night. You looked right into my eyes, then as you answered, you're eyes quickly shifted over my right shoulder toward the steps, then back to me. Clearly, you were lying through your teeth.

Are you ever going to stop being a coward, blaming everyone else for your misfortune and life status? Everything wrong is someone else's fault. It's actually funny to listen to you now. Funny and sad.

I know you know the truth. I know you want to hide behind laws that protect women who stop working to raise families. Except you didn't do anything like that. Even when you had the chance to get paid for it. You spent hours at a number of dead end jobs that paid less than daycare cost. You worked late and spent more than you made. You barely lifted a finger around the house.

You complain that our custody arrangement is 'babysitting'. You can't make doctor's appointments, deal with mid-day school issues, or stay home with a sick kid.

You lied and you cheated, and now you're planning to steal.

You have to live with yourself you lying, cheating, characterless jackhole. Only you know the truth. Some day you're mommy is going to stop bailing your ass out. Because I certainly have.

Strokin'

2007-04-17T11:06:00.000-05:00

This morning's swim almost makes up for the disappointing story of my ride from Saturday.

We swam about 1250. That's 250 more than the race. To be race ready, you need to exceed the distance of the race (cause you have to do two other things). So I'm pretty happy.

I also had moments where I actually got the stroke right. Some laps were 20/22 or so. Some laps were a solid 28, don't get me wrong.

And I probably took more breaks than I should.

And we were swimming in a neat little line.

Real tri swimming is in a pack with arms and legs and feet flailing everywhere in open water. Toward a buoy. I have this nightmare about going off track and in the wrong direction, or of someone breaking my nose. A broken nose would totally take me out of the race.

But for now, today, I swam 1250. WOO HOO!

God Bless the Crossing Guard.

2007-04-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

For those of you who do not have small, school-aged children, let me tell you of the magic of the crossing guard.

You drop your kid off at school, or send them off from home with a kiss each morning, knowing the nice lady with the stop sign and yellow vest will be at that very busy intersection every morning.

Until you drive up and there is pure, unadulterated chaos. Traffic backed up, frantic kids everywhere. It is enough to make you call 911.

Except calling the police is maybe not the smartest move. They tend to park their cars in the middle of traffic with their lights on. They don't understand the intersection, the priorities and the suave grace required for such an undertaking.

Then the dumbass drivers. This isn't a road you HAVE to go down. On a non-school day, it might be considered a shortcut. But why OH WHY do you people have to drive past the school unless you have business there. Between 7:30 and 8:30 AM, stay off that road. Go the 'long' way and you'll get their faster!! Stay away unless you have business at the school, stupid, stupid, people!

Of course, today, our beloved crossing guard wasn't there. My first inclination is to worry about her. Where could she be? Is she OK? Did the 30 degree weather finally get to her? Perhaps I should bring her a hat next time.

There was nothing funny about parents scrambling, hollering to other parents...'she's not at the corner!!' and 'there is no guard'. We're talking moms and dads in PJ's dragging younger siblings also in PJ's...they hadn't dressed to walk across the street.

If Tippy actually had clothes on (yes I gave in and let him wear his PJ's out again today) and the police hadn't shown up,I would have directed traffic myself.

One lone cop. No concept at all of traffic control. It took me 30 minutes to do what normally takes about 7.

God bless the crossing guards. Truly unsung heroes.

Oh, Thanks God. I get it, I think.

2007-04-15T07:48:00.000-05:00

So, Saturday's team workout was to ride the actual triathlon route and run afterward. So, 2/3 of the triathlon. Not bad, right? We did lots of hills at the outdoor workouts before, so I should be just fine.

Forget I'm a little nervous about my crappy bike whose chain derails at every opportunity.

Forget that it's 33 balmy degrees outside.

Forget that I was already feeling like a lump of tiredness because I actually kicked ass all week in work outs.

Forget that I'd had a teeny false sense of security-- riding in the industrial part does not equate to riding in 'the wild', complete with traffic.

I was doing great in the beginning. I was keeping up with everyone. Until the first big hill, when my chain derailed because I shifted too quickly. But the hills, oh the hills. And my bike doesn't shift low enough.

But every time I gracefully landed in the dirt, I waived to the folks passing me on their bikes, smiled at the concerned motorists driving by and chatted with the neighbors who were getting their morning papers at the ends of the driveway.

Oh my GOD the hills. In spin class, you control the resistance. In the real world you're hauling your 165 pound ass, plus the bike up a hill and you're freakin' tired. The resistance controls you.

I'm still tired. Just talking about it 24 hours later. It took me almost an hour and a half to go 14 miles. The full triathletes did 20 miles in a shorter time than it took me. They still smiled and cheered me on. Triathletes are good people.

You'd think I want to quit at this point. But I don't. Not until I kick it's ass. I'm going to find a web site that tells me what the hell I need to adjust and get back on that stupid bike. Even though my ass hurts.

Self Doubt

2007-04-13T07:41:00.000-05:00

Self doubt is an ugly thing. And when 99.9% of the people around you think you can do far more they YOU think you can, it leaves very little room for self doubt. It's like if you can't live up to their expectations...how embarrassing.

Then there is that one person (that you really, really respect and call 'master') who says, "I never thought you'd stick with it." And proceeds to try to contradict everything that you've learned so far and acts as a skeptic about what you really can do. He even made a comment about my weight.

So, I retell the story to someone else who AGREES with the first person. That sort of smarts a bit. My response to both was, "You don't know me very well. I don't give up on things. The harder they are the more I stick with them. It's the easy things I can't seem to focus on"

So, in the pool last night, trying for the thousandth time to get my stroke right. I've found I can significantly reduce my strokes and get more power if my hands stay on top of the water at all times. I tend to breathe on the right, and that damn left hand sinks when I raise the right hand. So I try every different timing of my breathing I can think of. When I think I get it right, I realize I'm sinking EVEN MORE. This is why I love the swimming. It doesn't hurt and I can get lost for an hour in the teeny little detail. When I'm finally good at it and I have nothing to fight against, I'll be bored by it. I don't doubt I can swim the 400m for the Father's Day Triathlon, which will be my first. I'm pretty sure I can swim the .62 miles for the Iron Girl, but I can always float when I get tired.

I know I can survive the pieces. But I'm so freakin' tired after this morning's 3.87 or so mile run that I wonder where I'll get the energy to do all three. Then I get frustrated because after 3 months of training, I should be able to do that with no sweat, right? So then the questions come:

There is something to be said for race day adrenaline...but will there be ENOUGH?
How do I know I'll get better at it?
When should I be getting better at it?
Am I running enough to be better at it?
Is it because I haven't lost any weight?
Am I not eating the right foods?
Am I not eating at the right times?
Have I fluffed this up so big that I'm going to look like a fool?
My 'slacking off' day now is twice as active as a hard workout day a year ago. That should account for something?
Why am I still so tired (albeit slightly less so than in the beginning)?
Don't I get points for only eating 3 Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs since Easter? Tippy said he didn't like them and SOMEONE HAD TO EAT THEM.

I need to get some measurement of my new fitness level. Some quantifiable data to say, 'you were here and now your here and in two months you'll be there'. I need to know that I'm at least average and bonus points for above average in my progress. I don't expect to compete with those who've been active their whole lives. But I'd like to know where I stand amongst the previously morbidly obese women with two kids and a full time job. Am I slacking?

This feels like that point when I was giving birth to Karateboy that I'd been pushing for 3 hours. And after each contraction I asked if I'd made any progress. And there was no measurable answer. So I grabbed STBX by the collar and growled, "I can't do this without PROGRESS!"

We ended up in a C Section because he was 'sunny side up'- and would never have come out on his own with his big old 8 pound 12 ounce body.

So I wonder if I was as fit then as I am now if I could have done it. I wish I could have shot that baby out like a rocket. I wanted to be the best birthing mom EVER. Well that didn't happen.

So with the whole working out thing, I've been at the gym or exercising in some form 8 or so hours a week. THAT IS A LOT.

I'm going to keep going. But I'm not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm looking around at everyone else and I'm still at the back of the back. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this. Genetics play a huge role in athletics. Maybe I started too late in life. Maybe I'll hit this goal and it will never be easy and I'll find something else to do. But I really want to keep at it until I conquer it. But the going is hard and slow and I have no patience.

Look. I know I'm my own worst enemy. And the only thing in the way of progress is the voice inside my head. But the voice needs to see something, anything in the way of tangible proof that it is wrong. The voice loves every one's kind words, but it is a cynical voice and likes to deal in facts. I don't know how to measure it. Meh. Bah humbug.

Maybe I'll feel better if I get some more sleep.

OH, and for my MILF sisters? The scale today said I was down to 165, from the 168.5 I've been holding relatively steady. So have I lost 3 pounds? I didn't change anything. I added a weight training class one day a week. But I'm going really light. So I dunno. {sigh!}

Yet Another Shopping Obsession

2007-04-12T12:07:00.000-05:00

I can't stop looking at this web site. I mean, they made fun of me last year during kickball season because I insisted on wearing a tennis skirt instead of shorts.

Yes, I'm serious about triathlon. But I'm also serious about not looking so bad while I pant and struggle to the finish. I tried on tri-suits. Only for skinny people.

But I found tri-suits with skirts. They cover the most unflattering areas leaving the toned, muscular knees and calves for all the world to see. I swear it will make my tummy look flatter. That is if folks aren't distracted by my flabby upper arms. And chin hair.

I would so rock if I could get one of these for my workouts. Or this. Or this. But they're expensive and Danskin probably sells something at Wal Mart for less. But maybe I'll save my pennies and get the tri-suit. I'd love to cycle in a skirt.

How cute would that be? I'd so be an Iron Girl, then. :-)

A Crazy Thing Called Sports.

2007-04-11T10:43:00.000-05:00

So, who is my new hero?

Lance Armstrong. See, I missed all the press when his famousness peaked. Ew. It had to do with ‘sports’. Which is only a step above ‘physical activity’. That was not my deal back in 2003. I was finishing an MBA and having a baby. I had 3 kids. I was busy. I was TIRED.

I only downloaded his book because Buck Nekkid told me I should. But I'm entering this whole new sporty phase of my life--and I do whatever Buck tells me to do- so I did. But I wasn't very excited about it because while I'm the BIGGEST fan of biography and non-fiction writing, I have never been interested in a sports figure. Of any kind. At all.

Well, now that I understand the lingo, and have actually watched bike races on TV and paid attention to Michael Phelps' times, I think I’m interested in this odd thing called ‘sports’. It is like a bug that gets into your head and infects your thinking with all sorts of interesting facts. Not that I’m exactly conversant, but I watched something about the Pittsburgh Penguins on TV last night AND ENJOYED IT. Before you know it, I'll have a favorite team of some kind.

I mean, I've been to professional events, but if I don't know someone who is playing or have a reason to be passionate about it, I'm mostly there for the socializing.

So why Lance?

Lance, son of a single mom (and he worships his mom), father unknown, says he does everything fast….I just see some of me in him and wonder what would have happened if someone had put my ass on a bike 25 years ago-- or encouraged me to do any kind of regular exercise. Oh, and he’s hot.

There are a bunch of lines in the book that I find myself QUOTING. Much the same way I used to quote writers, thinkers and philosophers. Now, I found myself quoting someone who needs to write a book 'with' someone. Can you imagine?

Now I'm quoting an athlete. Buck brought me two of his books, which are sitting on my desk and distracting me from work because I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE MEANS when he says, "It isn't about the bike, " or "every second counts". I want to reread the one I listened to because surely I missed something.

What the HELL IS HAPPENING???

I'm Fine

2007-04-11T08:31:00.000-05:00

I was just having a moment. The only way to get it out of my head was to write about it, experience it, and move on.

It was quickly resolved with the kiss of a handsome prince charming, aka Tippytornado.

I have my moments, but I recover quickly, because that's whatcha do!

'Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather it is a spirit that bears things- with resignations, yes, but above all, with blazing, serene hope. Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. but to keep going when the going is hard and slow- that is patience'

The flash

2007-04-10T15:29:00.000-05:00

I'm just having an office conversation,
with another person who is getting divorced,
and I'm telling her how lucky she is,
that she wasn't married long,
and that there are no children.

A lump forms in my throat and my eyes start to sting. It hits my like a flash. I actually feel the tingling in my fingertips and on the back of my head. It's like all the pain of all this hits me all at once in one flash. The stress, the uncertainty, the prospect of loneliness and the unknown. I have control over nothing. I will never really be free again.

And I feel sorry for myself.

I HAVE to cry or scream or run or something. But it is the middle of the day. I'm at work. There is no time for a pity party, because this is MY mess, even though I don't think I should take all the credit myself.

This is so freakin' complicated.

I KNOW I'm doing the right thing. I KNOW I did the best I could until the final straw broke what teeny weeny back was left. I KNOW that this is the best thing for the boys and I.

It doesn't make it easy, and it doesn't make him right. There are just days where I feel like no matter what I do, it's wrong, and happiness, in whatever form, is meant for someone else.

I don't know if I'll ever feel like I got a fair shake. Even though I work harder than just about anyone and overcome more than just about anyone.

Don't get me wrong, the blessings are listed and it is a mile long.

It just doesn't stop the pain from the impact. There is no buffer. Just part of the process.

And it hurts. And it hurts more to know there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

Organ Donation

2007-04-10T10:01:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note. Someone I care about very much is alive today because another person donated their organs.

Stan Marshall, whose wife Jacinta was my boss, mentor and friend suffers from a genetic kidney disorder. Stan dedicated most of his life to helping others, and I'm positive you'll never meet a nicer man. I watched Stan and Jacinta suffer with his illness, waiting on edge for years. They'd planned an active retirement, and their dreams were slowly melting away as Stan's health declined steadily.

In the African American community, donors are especially rare, when, in fact, this genetic disorder runs rampant-- the very place it is needed the most is where the cure is in shortest supply. By some miracle, just as they were about to begin dialysis, Stan got the call for a kidney.

Local TV did an interview with them about meeting the donor family. It is amazing to see the comfort brought to those who were left behind to know that part of their loved one brought such joyto another family . See JC Hayward's Interview... It is currently running on the left side of the screen.

My X boss is the beautiful lady in red. Her husband, is healthy and handsome and smiling. It gives me chills just to see him.

Find out how to be an organ donor. Please don't take your organs with you! We need them here!

Wing Girl

2007-04-09T19:30:00.000-05:00

Saturday, After recovering from sleeping outside, I worked out, then went to the movies with my friend S.

(more on the Egg Roll when I get the pictures downloaded...I MUST remain in chronological order!)

After the movie, we went to The Green Turtle. Just across the street from the meat market I've been bitching about, it is supposed to be more subdued. Since I'm over my need to get 'noticed' I happily tagged along with S and her sister, also S. See, S is a model. Her sister is young and beautiful. When we're together, I am wing girl. No one notices me. It used to bother me and make me jealous. So I decided not to care. It is infinitely more fun to watch the soap opera as it unfolds.

So we're at the bar and sitting at the table, and Sister S was a little upset that there was no action. Of course, I was laughing, sipping my water. It was pretty boring so we moved further into the bar. S and Sister S introduced me to Chris who is also a bartender. Thank God! Bartenders have the gift of gab and we were laughing and having a good time.

Of course, through all this, I've still got my nasty case of laryngitis. Which I think Sizzle sent me with the cold she had. (I'm taking virus to a whole new level) So I didn't talk much, but I observed a lot. That girl with the spray on tan and the whitened teeth and the bleached blonde hair...sweet, but totally needs to buy larger clothes. Or that guy, that had too much to drink and is dancing just a little too much. There was a running commentary in my head. Oh if I could have shared.....S is such a sweet person that she doesn't make fun of anyone...and it irritates her when anyone else does. I think that's why I like her so much.

Anyway, this group was a little more my speed and a little less meat markety. What was funny was the wing guys who dutifully kept me occupied while their friends talked to S and S's sister. The only pick up line I heard all night? People kept asking S, 'Did you go to ___ high school?'

The band wasn't bad, and we stayed until the bar closed. I met all kinds of people, and it feels like the kind of place that I'd go back to...and they'd remember me. I wouldn't feel awkward walking in there alone, high-fiving the manager and plunking down at the bar. And ordering a soda.

I think I get that cheers thing. And I'm pretty happy to be wing girl. More blog fodder to come!!

How I spent my Friday night

2007-04-08T17:01:00.000-05:00

6 or so years ago I started a family tradition.

On good Friday, we sleep outside the White House, waiting in line for tickets to the annual Easter Egg Roll.

Why? Because it is a rare thing to play on the White House lawn, score free stuff, and hang with celebrities like Mr. McFeely and Barney. And I'm a little nuts.

Last year, STBX the kids and I pitched our tent with 1,400 other crazy folks to get our tickets. See, the goal is to get in line early so you get early tickets. It is timed entry to the event, and by 11AM the teeny White House lawn is pretty stuffed. Get in at 9AM, and you only compete with the other folks who stood in line for 20 hours. By then you're like family.

This year, with illness so rampant, we decided that I would go. 1949 Army down sleeping bag, large golf umbrella, my IPOD and a camp chair in hand, I joined my friends in line at about 3PM Friday. A friend had gotten there first, so I joined her. I was 38th in a line of 1,400.

You spend a lot of time getting to know your neighbors when you're stuck in one place for that long. That close to the front, you have to deal with the media, even though you're far from looking your best. I think I didn't make it on TV...well maybe, but I had the sleeping bag up over my head.

My fellow line mates would check on me every now and again and remind me to take my cold medicine. Nothing cleaner and more pleasant that a bunch of parents. Really. Good folks! Lots of laughing and making fun of everyone's 'coping' mechanisms for passing the time. And what a heathen I was for getting in my bag with my shoes on.

Then it snowed. About 2 inches. Just enough to make it interesting.

See, I didn't bring a tent 'cause it was just me. I thought I'd just snuggle under the umbrella. I was wearing layers...but I forgot extra socks. At about 3AM the snow on my fabulous down bag started to melt. And I got wet. Then I got cold. So I started running around the Ellipse to keep warm. Despite the fact that my line buddies kept adjusting my umbrella and covering me with trash bags to keep me dry. I love those people.

I mean that cute dad with the blue eyes kept kindly offering his tent, but I would have peeled off his snow leggings and bulky old man jacket...and...well...rocked the joint. Actually not, but the thought did cross my mind.

We talked about everything. Introverts apparently don't get in line. Some guys brought a DVD player, a group of preschool moms had a card table and board games.

So, I'd have pictures, but I forgot the camera. But as soon as I get copies...I'll post.

This is the only truly public White House event. It doesn't matter who you know, who you are, how much money you have or where you were born. People of every size and shape and education and background and sexual orientation get in line, get their tickets and get to be a part of a 100+ year old tradition. I get all mushy and gushy at this point about tradition and this country and what it stands for. Wait, while I sing the Star Spangled Banner. For a moment, I even forget who my sister voted for in the election. That even a moron can be President. But I digress. Clearly, I'm a flag waiving patriot for what our founding fathers intended. Not the mess we've made of it.

Tomorrow, my line buddies and I get to meet each other with a few fewer layers of clothes, less sleep deprived and hopefully a wee bit warmer. It is always fascinating to compare your first impressions of people and what you see the next day. 'Oh look, that's the talker', or 'man did he snore', or 'I think he had something other than coffee in that thermos..he ROCKS!!' We'll all be in the same herd for the 9AM entry and I can try to pay #39 back for the hot chocolate he kindly brought me!

WE'RE GOING TO SEE HANNA MONTANA!! Check out the lineup and be jealous...

MILF Check In

2007-04-06T08:25:00.000-05:00

Can I get a shout out for my NEW JEANS! They're a size 10, Talbot's petites. If Talbot's does vanity sizing, please don't tell me, because these are even a little baggy.

To review, In January 2005, I was growing over my Size 20 clothes. I was 205 pounds. With just diet, I lost 40 pounds, and with exercise I've lost at least 2 sizes. Hooray!!

One more reason to love the skin I'm in? There is a special category for triathletes who way more than 150 lbs. It is called Athena. As you recall, I'm firmly at 168.5. even if I loose the 20 or so pounds I want to, I can probably still race as an Athena.

The difference? Swimming and racing against 250 women between 31 and 35 years old, all shapes, sizes and fitness levels. With Athena, I race against maybe 50 women. Something makes me happy about standing in line with the other Iron Girls who are amply endowed. It would be nicer to beat the pants off the skinny girls, but that is unlikely.

So anyway...props to the rest of my MILF's..we are in our very own category!

PS I'm still taking a break from Hot Monkey Sex Friday. I'm sick and I'm tired and I'm happy. Please feel free to carry on the celebration yourself, and in your own special way.

Down with GOOGLE!

2007-04-05T07:21:00.000-05:00

That damned learning search engine! You can never get the same results twice.

I was running a search for some stock photography to replace the 'eyes' picture GMAN took of me. I have an idea for what I want, but it involves shopping, logistics and GMan and I having a few minutes to laugh our asses off....so coming soon!

Anyway, this guy's myspace came up when I did this particularly unusual group of search words in Google images. OF COURSE, I had to drop him a note that google had grouped him in this unusual set of sites, 'cause I thought it was funny. OF COURSE, neither he nor I can replicate the results, so he probably thinks I'm a nut case. I had to explain what I was doing and why....

Google is evil!

6 Months
For those of you who are counting, yesterday marked the 180th day since STBX moved out for the last time. In Maryland, you have to live apart for a full year before you can even file papers. So, we're in the home stretch. I can exhale a little, and thank him for it. Thank you, too for keeping me sane while I wait, patiently, even when the going is hard and slow, but with a spirit of blazing, serene hope. (yes I lifted from that quote I keep using over and over again from Corazon Aquino--it is hanging on my computer and it keeps me from climbing the walls just about every single day)

New Bed
Karateboy memorized the infomercial for the Tempurpedic (sic?) sleep system years ago. Nothing funnier than saying to no one in particular, "I didn't sleep so well last night", and having your 4 year old pipe up, "That's because your sleeping on an old fashioned mattress" and proceed to repeat the whole infomercial.

So, he needs a new mattress, and I haven't purchased one because of theexpense of the Tempurpedic. STBX said at Christmas that he would buy him the mattress cover, which is still $100, but beats the $800 for a whole new mattress. Karateboy has decided to sleep on his floor.

Last night, Karateboy, Tippytornado and I had some time to kill at the mall. We wandered into JCPennys and proceeded to 'test' all the beds. We had an EXCELLENT time with no sales people, no other shoppers, just us and 10 beds. Personally, I want the Temurpedic style bed. Even the 'air' bed wasn't nearly as comfy.

The bonus was the time spent playing like an 8 year old with my favorite people in the whole wide world.

The Reality of Crushes

2007-04-04T07:33:00.000-05:00

So someone (and forgive me for not remembering which member of my blog family it was) posted about blog crushes. I have had fleeting blog crushes. Gentlemen whose writing I admire, whose jokes I find are funny, and I blush a little when they notice me on my blog. But in person crushes where you see the person and they see you....a whole new level of crushiness. The information isn't controlled by what you consciously choose to write or put out there.

I've been thinking about that a lot and how it relates to other crushes. Crushes especially on those in situations that you know will never go anywhere...it is the crush for the pleasure of the crush alone. 'Cause you can fill in the rest with your imagination, and you never have to worry that it will be shattered and you never really risk a part of yourself.

Like the at work crush. You know, that other person who is so amazing at what they do and how they treat other people you just want to bathe in the glow of your fabulousness. I mean, what is sexier than watching someone adeptly diffuse a tense situation in a drab meeting room withe finesse and style and brains? How about when they show their more driven side and over achieve just a little bit (or a lot)? Respect is an important part of these crushes. I have often wondered where I would meet someone just like the guys I work with...'cause dating at work is out of the question given the nature of my job. They dress well, are smart and funny and respectful. Just darn easy to be around. And OH, they get to see you at your best most of the time, too. You just can't get that kind of information about how someone deals with conflict or solves problems in a bar or on a date. It makes work life a little more livable.

Then there is the gym crush. You know, they guy who seems to ALWAYS be next to you. He smiles and you smile and you wonder if it is just a coincidence or if there is something there. You genuinely haul your ass out of bed some mornings because he'll notice your gone and ask you about it. You complain about the toughness of the workout and compare who sweats more. Crack sarcastic jokes as you groan through the class. It makes gym life just a little more livable.

There was the online/phone crush. The friend I met online and talked to for months before we actually met. We eventually did meet and it was fantastic, but transitioning the phone crush to real life was hard. Being with him was great, but what I knew about him that you'd learn any other way was sketchy. We mostly talked about me. Which was fine when we talked late at night a couple of times a week. However, when you're in contact 10 times a day, and seeing each other in person, I became a pretty boring topic. It made not having an in person partner easier.

Then the neighborhood crush....the guy who is the super dad and excellent husband that you just wonder some times...and you flatter each other and do one another favors, always including the wife. But the fantasy is always sooo much better than any reality.

When the man is also single (from what I can tell), I never want to take it outside of it's little orb of perfection. By thrusting it out of mine (and maybe our) imagination, and holding it up to the sunlight, it couldn't be nearly as bright and perfect and shiny. Flirting with reckless abandon when there is nothing to lose is fun and easy. By forcing it to something else changes the dynamic just enough that it might break. So I really don't want to do that.

I like the boundaries I have right at this minute...so I can still feel fantastic and like a girl and not take risks and get hurt or inadvertently hurt someone else.

The Sock Story

2007-04-03T07:27:00.000-05:00

Gman alluded to the sock story in a comment.

It goes a little something like this.

After Karateboy successfully secured his fabulous orange belt, I got a gander at his socks. They were black. Now, I'm not a bleach-crazy kind of mom. But darn, my whites are white.

When I said, "What did you do to your socks?"

"Oh mother, these are still the ones from yesterday"

...and I made a face...GMan was kind enough to capture my horror. He did not, however capture the filth level of the socks. I'm talking just-throw-them-away-they're-ruined dirty. It didn't help that we were standing just outside the karate school with lots of other folks mulling around.

See, Karateboy likes to wear socks to bed. Unlike me (I'd be barefoot all the time if I could) he must have his tootsies covered. I've tried convincing him to put on CLEAN socks before bed, but he insists on wearing the ones he wore all day. Frequently I have to remind him in the morning to put on CLEAN socks before school.

So I will continue to ride him about clean socks...and over-react and be properly mortified when he pulls more two-day sock extravaganzas.

But really, I don't care. Sooner or later the smell's gonna catch up with him and only he can live with that.

It's his little form of rebellion.

If wearing dirty socks is as bad as it gets, I'm one lucky freakin' mommy, don't you think? It skips drugs, tattoos, earrings and colored hair rebellion....so I'm OK with that.

I know the minute he finds out that girls or people in general won't like him with ripe, two day old socks, the romantic in him will win and he'll change.

Me, I'm sockless...cause that's the BEST!

He did WHAT?

2007-04-02T08:00:00.000-05:00

Whilst I was in the shower, Tippy went outside on the front porch to pee. And christen the concrete walkway, he did.

Why? In a house with THREE bathrooms, one of which was probably closer to him when he felt the urge than the front door?

Why couldn't Karateboy stop him? Because he was laughing too hard.

Great. Tippy's a performer just like the rest of us. Effin' great. That's just what I needed in suburban, whitebread Columbia. My own Jackass troupe in the making.

We HAVE Orange Belt

2007-04-01T20:04:00.000-05:00

WOO HOO! Karateboy got his orange belt!! Remember, we wouldn't let him test the last time.

Sure, he got suspended, but we let him do it anyway. He sat still through the whole thing. Now he decides how he's going to behave based on what an orange belt would do! Yipee!! This should last a week or so before he presents another behavior challenge.

It's Just Hair

2007-03-31T17:45:00.000-05:00

It isn't a big deal. I used to have short, short, pixie short hair.

But when I got pregnant in late 2003, I lost my ability to make hair decisions. Stressed out, mother of 4, unhappy in my marriage, I couldn't make a single freakin' decision. My husband had made so many disparaging comments about what I thought was a cute, easy solution for motherhood, I became paralyzed about it. I think I partly grew it in to save our marriage. If I could be more attractive, maybe he wouldn't be looking elsewhere.

Starting with my decision on February 29, 2004 to raise two fewer children started something inside me. Slowly, I really changed. From the inside. I wanted to be the mom that Tippy and Karateboy deserved and not the stressed out maniac I'd become.

Little things marked the transformation. I started losing weight, singing in the praise band at church...volunteering more. I started to pay attention to how I looked and carried myself. After all, I had an MBA now...I should look the part. I even moved into a new house.

The last year of changes, you all know about. Divorce, triathlon, learning new lessons. The only physical thing I carried with me still was the hair. It never stopped growing, this long, unruly mane of curls. It never, ever looked brushed. It was getting frizzier from all the washing after all the working out. It was shedding everywhere. It was a pain in the ass. And I don't give a flying fuck if STBX thinks I look like a boy. My balls will always be bigger than his.

I decided that I'd donate it to Locks of Love when it was long enough. Friday night, I took a pony tail holder, a ruler, and a plastic bag. I told Cheryl, the woman who taught me to embrace my curls instead of straighten them, to just cut it. And cut it she did. There it goes. The last part of the old me off to make someone else happy. 'Cause it is some thick, wavy, super hair.

For me the jury is still out...it will take some getting used to. But I bet the next time I don't go to work with a wet head, or I can run at lunch without worrying...or I don't have to clean hair out of the drain in the shower....then I'll appreciate it. It's just hair. It will grow and maybe I'll dye it pink.

Tippy can't stop touching it and telling me how much he loves it! Do you see where his hand is?

PS. Photo by GMan

Tippytornado

2007-03-30T07:44:00.000-05:00

My little bundle of 3 year old joy doesn't get nearly enough blog time. But oh, my! This week has been full of doozies. You see, he didn't really start talking until about a year ago. I mean, it was clear to me that he could, he just chose not to. With a house full of loud mouths, he really didn't NEED to talk. Here is a teeny smattering of some of his more memorable phrases this week. For those of you who know us, you see he's been spending WAAAAY too much time with my mother.

This one stopped me in my tracks today.
"Tippy, please put your coat on.."
"Eff you assiss...humph!" (translated: if you insist...)

Last night:
"Mom, DUUUUUHHHHH, you have to click the 'x' to get to Jetix dot teeee veeee!" (his adept laptop skills are another post all their own) He already thinks I'm stupid. However, I know I'm not becuase I can count to 10 and he counts, "One, two, Eight..." Someone should help him with that.

"Duuuuhhhhh mommy, Pwayhouse Disney is right heerrreee (pointing to the link on the screen). You no check your email!!!"

I came home after swimming earlier than usual, so I climbed into bed to rest my aching muscles for a few minutes on Tuesday morning. I didn't realize he was IN MY BED. I feel a cold little hand touch my arm.
"Mom, why you naked? Put jammies on, that's GROSS" Yes, honey, you're absolutely right. Now, GET OUT OF MY BED!

Monday morning:
"I NO GO MS YOIS' HOUSE. SHE HAS NO INTEWRNET!" He didn't want to go to Ms. Lois' house because he wanted to play on the Internet. He can surf the net and get into his babysitter's Facebook account (he loves to go into address history and click on random sites-- so saving logins and passwords is a no no), but he cannot enunciate correctly. I have work to do.

Last evening:
"My name starts with a thweee" See, his best friend's name begins with an 'E', which looks like a three and it is something she says all the time. HOWEVER, his name starts with a 'D'. But you can't change his mind. Like you can't change his mind that maybe pink shouldn't be his favorite color, and that people think it's odd that he wants his nails painted even if I use black nailpolish.

Pictured here....thanks to GMAN.

Demanding little cuss that he is, he has certain songs that must be played again and again and again. It was 'More' by Matthew West. If I could have worn a hole in my IPOD I could have. But to hear him sing the lyrics makes me all mushy inside!! He connected to MUSIC!! YIPEE!

Later, I downloaded 'Move Along' by the All American Rejects for Karateboy because it was featured in a Bionicle commercial. Thus, it replaced 'Boogie Wonderland' as HIS favorite song.

Tippy has now adopted Move Along. The song is exactly four minutes long. Do you know how often I hear that song? And how much longer can I take it? Do you think I can convince them to like heavy metal? Do you think I can find a heavy metal song I like that doesn't involve sex, violence or foul language? Questions, questions, questions....I don't think 'Disturbed' sings anything palatable for them....

My 3 year old is turning into a 23 year old, where I get to be his faithful servant and do his bidding. He's getting his grandmother trained. If you hear him curse, it's all her fault.

In the meantime, I'm working on counting and forming acutal words.

T Shirt Says WHAT???

2007-03-29T21:00:00.000-05:00

Even though Ms Manners clearly states that one should not wear slogans across one's chest, I can't help but be sucked into a good T Shirt slogan.

I have not one but TWO 'Writing Well is the Best Revenge' tops from my friend at Fussy.org .

In college I had an entire collection of doozies:

If you keep making faces, one day it is going to freeze that way -- sorry it already did (With calvin and hobbes)
Don't be Silly, Wrap that Willy - my support for Aids awareness
I've fallen and I can't get up --a number of cartoon characters around a keg..

You get the picture...I had more but I got rid of them at some point in my 20's.

I spent some time today perusing two sites, 'Think Geek.com' which has lots of nods to html freaks, bloggers and those who love binary code among others. Ah, the possibilities. I could enter a whole new social strata if people thought I might be smart, too.

'HTTP Error Code' panties
'I'm blogging this'
'MOM' in binary
a drawing of a molecule of chocolate
My personal favorite expression of indifference 'MEH'

Then my friend Melissa (not the blogger so often mentioned here) showed me Now and Zen ...and I laughed my ass off all afternoon.

'Caution - Cape does not enable user to fly'
'I Know Talent When I See it and You Don't Have It'
'So Far I'm Unimpressed'
my fav...'There is no 'I' in suck, there is 'u' in suck

I also found some cool political shirts on other sites, like the one with Laura Bush's picture that says, "I'm with Stupid", or "Quick, get Bush another pretzel"...my personal favorite "Of COURSE the world revolves around me!"

I didn't order any because I couldn't just pick one, and at $20 each, it just isn't necessary to have a shirt with a saying on it so someone would check out my rack. People do that anyway. But it is darn fun reading!

What would your shirt say? (or does it already say?)

A HHHot Little Meme...

2007-03-28T17:14:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Melissa I volunteered for this Meme. You have to name 10 things you like and 10 things you don't all using a letter assigned to you. I got the letter H. One of the somewhat forgotten, weaker letters. I picked words that had an immediate emotional reaction for me. Buck Nekkid helped me because, let's face it, H is one under-utilized letter!

Likes

H20 - clearer skin, weight loss, oh, and my new found love of swimming. yeah water.
Hero- That word conjures up romantic images of strong people (not just men) doing what is right and good to help others. Not just physical strength, but spiritual, intellectual and emotional strength. I can't say the word and not smile.
Height - I love people taller than me. Both sexes. Not a a single friend is shorter (if that's even possible). I truly wish I was taller.
Hugs - Sounds fluffy until you know where I'm coming from. I was the anti-hugger. Actually not a natural skill for me (except with my boys) I learned to love them this past year. Sizzle's picture of the Seattle Hugger gave me another item on my 'Things To Do' list...nothing feels more joyous and free than wrapping your arms around another being and giving a squeeze
Happy Hour- pick one hour to just indulge in whatever you love. It could be drinking and socializing, but can't happy hour be that time you spend cuddling reading '8 Little Monkeys' for the thousandth time? Everyone should recognize a happy hour ever day.
Hard - All of the incarnations of the word. I don't like to do things the easy way, so the more I have to invest, the more I think I'll get back. Of course, there are other meanings, too...you fill in the blanks
Home Depot- can you think of a more creative place to shop? Really...it is a craft store for people who think BIG. It's not just about home improvement....
History - if you didn't already know I'm a card-carrying nerd. I love love love history. Give me historical fiction or a good biography any day. One of my dream jobs would be the park ranger/tour expert at a historical hotspot. I'd love to live in Williamsburg at some point and live it.
Hydrangea - Such pretty flowers, in my favorite colors. And you can change the colors by shifting the PH of the soil...and I have several of them in my yard...sharing them last spring made me feel like I really owned something. A HOUSE!
Helping- Leaving the earth a better place than I found it is really important to me. I try to do that every day by helping someone.

Dislikes

Hot- I don't like to sweat. Hence I didn't take the job in Dallas, TX 9 years ago shortly after the sun burned me through my clothes walking through the parking lot of our facility. In winter, my house is at a chilly 69 degrees. I don't like to be hot.
Hair - When well placed and well groomed, it is fine. But when it grows in places it shouldn't, or it is frizzy and flyaway no matter what you do, or when it clogs the drain or collects on the bathroom floor. Honestly, I'd shave my head if I didn't think I'd lose my job.
Husband - The last 13 years aside, the word has all sorts of negative connotations-- if I think hard enough lots of good ones, too, but right now the word catches in my throat.
Hurt - Just saying the word makes me wince and withdraw....no one intentionally hurts another...and yet we do it every day
Housewife- Perhaps it is some jealousy because I never left it as an option for myself, I have negative feelings about this word. Women who give up careers to raise children are not housewives. They're women. It is an archaic term.
Hate - If there is anything I hate, it is hate. Such a strong word denoting an extremely dark emotion. I'm not a fan of people or things, and I chose not to be around those things, but to hate (especially another person) is something I cannot stand.
Hickeys - especially in places folks can see at work. If you want to mark me as your woman, think jewelry!
Helicopter- A symbol of 4th/5th grade failure to spell. Public humiliation. Nerves got the better of me. It DROVE me to become comfortable speaking and thinking in public. Still not as perfect as I could be. Plus, they're noisy, ugly machines, aren't they?
Hypocrites - Do as I say, not as I do is one of my mother's favorite sayings. I'm sure I'm one of these some times, but there are those that deserve the title more than others.
Horny - I don't like to want for anything. That's the only think I find myself in need of, and not willing to do what it takes to alleviate it. I don't like being horny. I'm much happier when I'm satisfied

Buck wanted to note how 'handjobs' are on his dislike list....I keep encouraging him to blog to 'splain' that.

New Lessons

2007-03-27T07:43:00.000-05:00

This past week was full of lessons learned.

If you're not getting the answers to basic questions-- that is, you know more about your neighbors than the guy you're dating (even after 3 weeks) you should reconsider...no matter how much you think you're ready to fall
You should never skip your workouts for a guy. Period.
Men and women can be friends, and I need my guy friends as much as my girl friends-- the guy that gets with me needs to be confident enough to deal with that.
Extreme extroverts should probably never date loners-- no matter how magnetic the attraction of opposites are
You should never give a guy your blog address because you can't tell the stories you really want to tell
Balance is important to me. As much as I obviously love myself and love to talk about all things ME...eventually I really do want to talk about something else
Also, said guy might read your blog and devise a (half assed) plan to romance you based on what you bitch about most.
I'm amazed at the number of guys that are my age who change their tune the minute they find out I'm a mom.... even though I'm clearly quite stable as a single parent and not looking for my baby's next daddy.
I'm also relishing single parenting more than ever. I really don't think I want a partner for that job. It is certainly easier than it was when I was married. The thought of sharing turns my stomach.
Having a stranger hit on you and ask for your number at the grocery is quite a charge
Later finding said stranger is married (by his own admission) makes it a freakin' good story
my new keyboard is crappy and I can't seem to type with the same speed and accuracy and it is pissing me off
Spring undeniably makes a significantly positive difference in my mood
I'm totally drawn to the thinking part of sports, the mechanics, the science, etc. The effort is what makes me ache. But the thinking is what gets me through long workouts.
My boys are truly delightful little individuals
If you piss them off, they'll hit you, especially if you hit them first
While I don't advocate violence, given our nerdy tendencies, I don't mind if the other kids think twice before picking on them the next time. Please don't tell the school administrators
My Dad was actually right (see above)

I'm a compulsive list maker. I have many lists that I've made, "Ways to fill the 130 weekends without children over the next 10 years", "My perfect partner will have the following...", "Before I die I must...", "Thinks the boys need to experience before they grow up"

I was going to share them here. But I keep hesitating. There are actually parts that I want to keep private. Maybe not from this WHOLE audience. But certain members. For some, it is a sensitivity thing. I don't want to hurt them. Other things, are just for me. So I'm struggling against writing with a filter on (OH MY GOD HAVE I DEVELOPED A FILTER??) and still enjoying the free flow of unedited information from my brain to my fingertips.

I dunno. Pick up the lessons and enjoy the ride!!!

Mommy and Es's Excellent Adventure

2007-03-25T16:24:00.000-05:00

9:50 AM, Sunday

Me: Mom...wake up. After church I want to go to Baltimore and see the Edgar Allen Poe house. If you want to go, be ready in an hour.

Mom: Oh Cool.

Me: Oh, and could you go online and make sure it's open and exactly where it is? Then we can wander around the city. Maybe get lunch.

11:35 AM, Sunday

I get home from church, Mom is eating something, has her laptop fired up and is chatting on about an Edgar Allen Poe house in Pennsylvania or something. I dismiss her because I care about one thing. The house in Baltimore. That I've wanted to visit since I moved here 9 years ago. I bought an outfit a month ago expressly for the purpose of looking good with comfy shoes while I visited said historical hot spot.

Me: Ready to go?
Mom: Yep.
Me: OK...let me go to the bathroom, I'll meet you outside.
Mom: But I have to pee, too.
Me: But that was included in the word 'ready'..

I can tell this is going to be a typical Wendy/Mommy adventure. Where I assume we speak the same language. We do not.

11:50ish

Mom: Blah blah blah. Saratoga street. Blah blah blah. Small cemetery. Blah blah blah. House isn't far.....
(this is a prime example of my selected listening skills. I was going to see the Edgar Allen Poe House. Everthing else was filtered out and forgotten.)
Me: You know, Mom, I'd be happy to do this with you for other things. Just decide what one thing you want to see and we'll plan a day around it. But I have to have one goal. The rest can be loose. You do the goal thing FIRST. Then the rest is icing.
Mom: Well, I want to go to DC one day without the kids...
Me: To do what..I need a goal.
Mom: What's that museum, with the old stuff?
Me: The Smithsonian?
Mom: Duh...I knew that, smartass. We could go to the museums.
Me: But what do you want to see? WE NEED A GOAL.
Mom: I dunno...The Natural History Museum...
(I roll my eyes because, while that is one of my favorites, I've been there, done that.)
Me: Really? I want to see some of the art museums...the others I can do with the kids-- and have.
Mom: American Indian Museum.
Me: Done.

Having the next adventure planned before we see if we live through the first is a hallmark of exactly who we are. I mean we can do anything, right?

We debate parking, I suggest parking by the cemetery, and walking to the EA Poe house.

WAIT! We can't go to the cemetery first, we have to go to the EA Poe house first. That is the GOAL. I started to shake...my mouth got dry...I took deep breath...and we went to the cemetery. Which was interesting for a bunch of dead people. I got over the goal thing, becuase there was still PLENTY of time.

I wandered around for 15 minutes mildly interested. It got more interesting even after the weird, smelly, semi-homeless guy with a dog kept talking to me about the lady buried in front of us who died after only one year of marriage, and how romantic he thought it was that her husband still described her as 'affectionate'-- meaning they had sex. OF COURSE THEY HAD SEX, THEY'D ONLY BEEN MARRIED A YEAR!! He didn't see my cynicism, but I wasn't wearing my, 'I'm no longer with STUPID' t-shirt, so how could he get it?

The sign said 'Edgar Allen Poe House .5 miles'. Mom was in charge, surely she could walk a half mile, I was in the mood for a leisurely pace, and she was in the mood to talk. And talk she did. And I practiced my listening skills. And we walked. And walked.

It was warm in the sunshine and the air felt good. There wasn't even that stench of traffic even though there were cars everywhere.

She has worked in Baltimore for 7 years so she should know where we're going, right?

Mom: It's over this way...off Saratoga.
Me: {relieved} there is a sign.
...later...
me: {in my head} wait, no signs...I think we've gone more than a half mile
Mom: look at these cute little houses, I could live here.. so clean..no people
Me: {in my head}Was that a hypodermic needle? What happened to the trees and grass? Something isn't right....why is the quality of the cars on the street DECLINING! WARNING ! WARNING! DANGER!
Mom: {with cheer} I could live here, and walk to work there...hmmm I wonder how much these cost.
Me: {in my head} look, whole families of adult males enjoying the great outdoors! Hold your purse closer.
Mom: {sensing my concern} We should have left our purses in the car.
Me: Mom, I love you, and I'm tired. But I can run fast if I have to. I'll call 911 for you when I feel safe.
She looked kinda' sad when I said that.
Mom: I can run too, I'll just die when we're done. {uncomfortable laughing}

Plan in hand, and we were pretty sure we were lost, when VOILA! We found Amity street. Which was surrounded with what I would describe as a 'PROJECT'. This is not a good connotation. As we pass the field filled with assorted debris, I see the house.

THE GOAL IS IN SIGHT! It is literally connected to a housing project on an ally street, but I CAN See it.

I can also see the sign that says, "Will reopen on April 7".

My mother sees the fire in my eyes.
Me: You had one job. ONE JOB!
Mom: Aw, 'cmon. You got a nice walk.
Me: I already biked 10 or so miles and ran 2 today. I didn't really need a walk through the ghetto. You're damn lucky I'm not hungry.
Mom: That kid would have sold you his chicken nuggets.

We burned walking rubber back to the car. I was walking my fabulous self across streets like I owned the place. Once on the RIGHT side of MLK Boulevard, I breathed a sigh of relief. She continued to talk, I listened. But don't quiz me on the topic. I just kept wanting to scream, " YOU HAD ONE JOB!!!"

We went to Little Italy, ate good food, and came home to take a nap. In under 3 hours. WHEW! My kind of Sunday! :-)

Read This

2007-03-24T20:20:00.000-05:00

This is so freakin' funny. Honestly. I'm too lazy to retype, and cut and paste isn't working.

Ignore the stupid dancing animations and the retarted music. Really. It's the text that counts.

http://www3.telus.net/public/a7a55952/thoughts.htm

Hot Monkey Sex Friday

2007-03-23T13:58:00.000-05:00

Happy Friday to all of you.

I was listening to music today. For those of you who don't know, I listen to a wide variety of stuff-- I generally avoid country, though. Show tunes, pop, Christian, heavy metal...etc.

I have a soft spot from the music of my youth. The 1980's. Especially the purple love freak, Prince.

Prince is a freakin' musical genius. There. I said it. How can you not LOVE the songs from Happy Feet? Really?

Discuss amongst yourselves. Debate. Really. Have fun with it.

Suspended

2007-03-22T19:52:00.000-05:00

My morning was a little slow today. Up late last night. Bad mood. Bleh.

By lunch, I was getting a little more chipper. I considered shoe shopping. A nice, sexy pair of heels to welcome spring....

1PM the phone rings...Anthony's 4 hours strep test comes back positive. You heard me. I suspected he was sick. The rapid came back negative. Two days later, positive. FOR THE SECOND TIME.

1:05 pick up prescription, get my own throat swabbed again for a 48 hour test (my rapid came back negative yesterday)

1:12 stop at DSW...he's been at school infecting others all week...what's 10 more minutes?

1:13 find the loveliest highest shoes I can balance on...on sale!

1:15 get back to the office to find some research I'd been doing brought back some bizarre news. Bumming. Totally

1:19 The school calls...Karateboy hit another student again. He's being suspended from school for one day.

Let me repeat for you..MY SWEET FIRST GRADE BOY GOT SUSPENDED.

Perhaps I should drop the sweet.

PS I'm seeing this totally hot guy that I totally want to fall flat on my face for. He's so into me I'm on a cloud.

My Little Love Muffin

2007-03-20T11:17:00.000-05:00

Call it whatever you want, I have passed my interest in companionship onto my beloved son, Karateboy. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Today, he wished we would move closer to an old daycare so that he could see his girlfriend, Cassandra. That he' hasn't seen in 2 years. We're not even sure Cassandra goes there anymore!

I tend to hear about Cassandra after he's been quiet for a while, in the car, without Power Rangers or his little brother to distract him.

He asked as were leaving the doctor's office after a follow up strep culture-- how DOES a child without tonsils get recurrent strep? Alas that mystery is for another post.

He's asked to go back to that place for summer camp before, but it is expensive and not as geographically convenient as the other summer camps we've enjoyed. Hence his request to move.

'But honey, you'd have to change schools'

'But, Mother, I'd only have to walk across the street to summer camp. I really miss her. And her old boyfriend is probably still being mean to her.'

In my head I'm screaming -- YOU'RE ONLY 7 YEARS OLD! YOU WERE 5 WHEN YOU MET HER!! CAN'T SOME LITTLE GIRL AT YOUR CURRENT SCHOOL CAPTURE YOUR IMAGINATION!! GAWD!

Such a sweet pumpkin. I know he was totally accepted at that summer camp. I think he's struggling now with fitting in. Yesterday's comment was about how he needs a Game Boy because when he told his friends at school his favorite toy was his Leapster Lmax they called him a baby. This, on the heels of him being ostracized for picking and eating his boogers.

In my head I'm screaming-- OF COURSE, YOU'RE ALL BABIES!! JUST BECAUSE YOUR PARENTS CAVED DOESN'T MEAN HIS HAVE TO! PLUS! HE CAN DO 4TH GRADE MATH! (Thanks to batman and lmax!!) CAN YOU?!?!?!? LEAVE HIM ALONE OR I'LL....

I think that's why he's been complaining he doesn't feel well the last few mornings....and why I ordered the strep test....

Man, this part of parenting sucks. The social stuff is necessary. Teaching them to bounce back from setbacks and get through this is the foundation for the rest of his life, but my usual advice, 'suck it up buttercup' -- just isn't appropriate here. My heart breaks for him. I almost cry when he tells me this stuff. And he's only 7 and it is only going to get worse.....

Please God, let's get the girl out of his head...c'mon. She wasn't nearly good enough for my boy!! :-D

The return

2007-03-20T11:16:00.000-05:00

I only lasted a few days with my 'no blogging' threat. Thanks to everyone that supported me. It was an incredible act of will not to post each day now that it has become a habit.

Of course, I'm still looking for money, but we're returning to our regularly scheduled story telling.

Walkamerica

2007-03-15T17:57:00.000-05:00

I'm going to beat this dead horse until I reach my goals. So no juicy stories about the hot guy I'm with, no HMSF update, no pictures of anything really interesting, no Karateboy stories, no cute Tippytornado items.....and even if my STBX really really annoys me I will not blog 'till I get to at least $500.

Sure, you'll prove to me that you weren't that into me anyway...but I can handle it. I'm tough.

In the meantime thanks to TXGAMBIT, yerdoingitwrong, speedwobble, and Kevin from church. While Kevin doesn't blog, he deserves mention because he said he'd donate to the March of Dimes even if it DIDN'T mean watching me suffer. Ain't he a peach?

So please sponsor me . So this boring and painful telethon-type behavior can end. Or I'll walk, baby!! WOO HOO!

Watch Me Run - Sponsor me

2007-03-14T09:00:00.000-05:00

No, really. Put your money where your mouth is. I mean it, my Internet friends.

The March of Dimes has been near and dear to my heart for many years.

This year, I want to run it. My motivation is cash. Sponsor me, and if I hit $1,000 I'll run the whole thing. 4 miles through scenic downtown Baltimore. I can't run 4 miles right now, but you know how I like goals....

I remember the first 6 mile walk, pushing Karateboy in a stroller-- surer with every step I was going to die. I remember dragging Karateboy and his cousins around the 1 mile walk. I remember skipping the walk to hand out refreshments last year with The Maven.

Since I only have 10 readers, you'll need to pony up $100 bucks each, or tell your friends. How happy are you that you or someone you love was born a healthy baby? Say thanks by paving the way for the next generation. Sponsor me

Oh, and the joy of making me run. Which I hate. But I'd do it if it meant $1,000 for WalkAmerica.

Friends and Sex

2007-03-13T06:14:00.000-05:00

In When Harry Met Sally Billy Crystal says something like, "Men and women can never be friends because sex always gets in the way."

It was always a funny statement and I just happened to remember it, probably because I didn't agree. It sounds archaic and shallow to me.

I have quite a few male friends. When I was married, I very safely flirted with them and told dirty jokes and had a good time. Once we split, I slowly learned that my availability changed the nature of our relationships. I try to be very careful now and often avoid certain topics and situations all together. Respectful gents that they are, my male friends either don't care or they respect this....because no one has been offended.

So, friends. Can men and women be friends? Can a guy I met on a dating web site, but was never attracted to, be my friend? Even though he was CLEARLY interested in me? Why can't I hang with divorced guys who are in the same boat as I am...comparing notes, offering consolation? It is harder with the women I know 'cause were all trying so hard to be powerful and invincible we're competitive bitches. With guys there is no competition...you know? Just an honest opportunity for feedback.

Anyway, friends, discuss....can men and women truly be friends without one of them at one point being attracted to the other? Have we risen above basic biology?

I Hate Daylight Savings

2007-03-12T08:03:00.000-05:00

Really, I do.

I missed my workout yesterday morning with the tri-team. I did ride by myself, and only fell once-- left with a teeny scrape on my knee. Then I ran from my house to the lake and All the way around. It sure felt like three and a half miles, but I forgot my little counter doohicky.

I spent the rest of the day waiting for the kids to come home. There is nothing like the kisses I get from my little velcro monkeys when they come back from their father's house. There is a reason their little arms fit so perfectly around your neck just when you need them.

This morning, no alarm woke me. I must have snoozed or slept through it. I woke up at 5:45...when normally I wake up at 4:45. So I went back to sleep and I think we barely made it out the door on time. I did, however, finally buy a new pillow. My shoulder still kills, but I think if I try a few nights without sleeping on it with the new pillow, I should be good to go.

So, no workout buzz today. Just my Venti Chai Tea Latte (skim, of course) from Starbucks.

...and I'm in the office. Thinking pleasant thoughts of a wonderfully relaxing weekend. HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

PS If you've read Maven's posts, you know our friends and families have lost a lot of people we care about over the last few weeks. A woman at work who lost her husband suddenly a few weeks ago is flying his ashes to India today. My heart is so heavy for her. I couldn't imagine her pain.

Then I thought of everyone else so close to me who woke up this morning without someone they love. I'm so thankful each time the boys are returned to me safe and sound. I'm so lucky. So say a little prayer of thanks and support for everyone who isn't as blessed today.

Effed Up the Time Change

2007-03-11T10:48:00.000-05:00

How, pray tell, dear readers did I manage to screw up the time change?

I put my clock in my bedroom ahead TWO hours.

I didn't get up for my 7AM class because my arm hurt so bad and the bed was so cozy and warm and I'd felt like I'd just gone to sleep(....well maybe because I had).

So later, I realized I'd wanted to make church at 10. I was on the phone, when my friend told me I was off by an hour....grabbed the cell phone and HE WAS RIGHT!

HOLY CRAP! Could you imagine if the bed hadn't been so cozy and warm and wonderful and I'd gotten up, ate, dressed and driven to the gym AN HOUR EARLY!

Maven said it is because I'm subconsciously trying to avoid riding outside. I still haven't mastered the clip pedals. My bruises still haven't healed from the last time.

Pray for me. I'm going to attempt to ride today. Outside. With clip pedals. If I don't break anything, I'm going to run, too.

Something Special

2007-03-10T09:15:00.000-05:00

It is hard to find the words to describe this because it is so foreign.

I've spent post after post complaining about the need for and the lack of attention.

I officially have some one's attention. He calls me in the morning, and at night, and I'm positive he's thinking of me in between.

And I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what to say about it. I'm utterly speechless and have been since Tuesday. It has been building since November, starting as a 'Platonic Crush'.

He's someone I've talked to on the phone and online for a long time. I've referred to him here many times as Tommy and Marineguy. I thought we'd never meet, so he got to know me, totally raw, personality first, mostly at the end of the day when the world was done kicking my ass. He's the one I talked to when I was loneliest, angriest and felt the most invisible. Just the sound of his voice on the other end of the line is soothing, comforting and makes me smile. He talks to me like no one else. He waited, patiently, on the sidelines while I ran around like crazy figuring things out. Always there, in my periphery...just for me in the quiet night filling my ear with exactly what I needed.

I didn't write about this sooner because I was afraid of ruining it. By saying something out of turn, but exposing myself in a way that I couldn't quickly recover. As a result, he thinks I'm hiding him, like a dirty secret. The only person I'm hiding from is STBX. I don't want him to know my deepest thoughts and I know he reads this sometimes. In some way, I also don't want to cause him any pain, because that's when he tends to strike back at me. So by hiding, I was protecting something precious to me.

I'm hiding him because I don't want to share. Driving to meet him Tuesday, I resolved that I cared for him already, even if he was missing half his face or was horribly disfigured in some way. Instead, he's freakin' hot. Light complexion with a hint of a goatee, full lips, eyes as blue as the pool-- I could get lost right there.

My legs are wobbly and my head spins. I can't articulate, or think, or be perfectly clear. I can't even figure out where or how he fits in my world. It is a wonderful, peaceful, hopeful, blur. I want to hold his hand with one hand and my nose with the other and jump off the dock into the unknown water. It is the unknown- the raw wounds from the past that scare the shit out of me.

I'm just hitting my groove as 'Just Me- Esme'-- I'm comfortable in this skin, in this place, in this moment. I have just about everything I want....do I deserve that one final piece if it means taking a risk? Shouldn't more time pass before I'm lucky enough to meet someone special? What about standing in line behind all the other girls that have been waiting longer?

This song plays has played in my head whenever I think of him-- as long as I've had a crush on him-- it's been 'his song' since before Christmas.

In the secret, in the quiet place

In the stillness you are there

In the secret, quiet hour I wait only for you

'Cause I want to know you more

I want to know you more

I want to hear your voice

I want to know you more

I want to touch you

I want to see your face

I want to know you more

(from 'I Want To Know You More' by Sonicflood)

I feel a certain pressure to jump with both feet. And I can't. The words are right on the tip of my tongue. But trepidation is all that stammers out. I'm afraid of ruining the fantasy I think we've both built up in our heads--- but I think the reality will be so much better. I hope I get the chance to find out. There is so much about him I don't know, but I think I know his character and I've seen glimpses of his soul. I just want to see his business card.

HE IS THAT INTO ME. Now I need the sequel book so that I know what the eff to do with it.....and not screw it up.

________________________________________________________

MAD PROPS TO GMAN AND THE MAVEN!

I cashed in my Christmas present from the ZG family and the FANTASTIC Ms. Betty came to my house and cleaned it.

Ladies, how quickly I got over the uncomfortable feeling of 'shouldn't I be doing something'.

There is nothing like the fresh clean smell of a spic and span house-- THAT I DID NOTHING TO MAKE HAPPEN!!

I love you guys!

Hot Monkey Sex Friday

2007-03-09T08:35:00.000-05:00

NOTE: Thanks for all your well wishes...Tippy seems magically better and exceptionally chatty today.

In honor of HOT MONKEY SEX FRIDAY a list of questions from a friend from high school!

Send this to someone....my answers are broad...and might change based on specific people but here it goes.

1. Would you be in control? sometimes
2. Would you pull my hair? if you asked me to
3. Would you whisper in my ear? yes....
4. Would you talk dirty to me? OH YES!
5. Would you kiss me with a little tongue or a lot of tongue? little tongue...I like lip play
6. Would you say my name? if that rocks your world

7. Would you go down on me? with fervor
8. Would you let me give you a hickie? no
9. How many rounds would we go? you mean we could have more than one?
10. What would you wanna do afterwards? eat
11. Would you take off all your clothes then take mine off slowly? no, heated/passionate ripping off of the clothes.
12. Would you lick and bite me all over? lick and little love bites
13. Would you like to play or get straight to the point? a little play but I like efficiency
14. Would you want me to take my time? maybe
15. How freaky are you, 1 - 10? 5
16. Would you want fast or slow? depends....1st time fast, 2nd time slow
17. Where would you wanna "do it"? geographically? 1st time, wherever we are, but in a bed if we're taking it slow
18. Would you be loud or quiet? LOUD
19. Would you want me to be loud or quiet? Medium
20. Would you mind if i liked you? not at all, the more members of my fan club the better.....or did you mean 'lick'?

21. Do you like me? I already like you !
22. Would you call me the next day? you're assuming you'd leave?
23. Would you scratch me? only nice scratches...where it itches
24. Would you let me scratch you? see #23
25. Would you have to be drunk? no
26. Would you date me? no
27. Would you do it today? yes...

28. Would you do it tomorrow? yes

29. Do you think that we would go any further then just sex? no

For those who are late comers to HMSF celebrations, an off-hand comment turned into a movement to recognize our sexual nature and celebrate it in all it's forms. Plus it gives me an excuse to say 'sex'. Feel free to roll your eyes, but I'm a single mom with a mini-van...not a lot of action here! Why should Hallmark be in charge of making up the holidays??

This picture is GMAN and I planning HMSF. We were at church. Heathens!

Mommy Guilt

2007-03-08T08:36:00.000-05:00

How many of you have done this? Sing the song with me now, baby...

"You're going to daycare even though I think you might be sick. I can't miss XYZ at work today, so I'm going to drug you up with Tylenol and PRAAAY!"

The saga began last night. Maven grabbed Tippytornado and Karateboy and we all met at Cheeburger Cheeburger for dinner (Pictures here). I arrived late because of a special program I'm running that went very, very late.

I took one look across the table at Tippy and immediately knew something wasn't right. He's a pale kid, but he was PALE. Flushed cheeks, one ear was red, eyes were watery and mopey.

I asked Maven-- did the sitter day anything about him? Did he miss his nap? Nope, nothing.

By the end of dinner he was draped across my chest like those stuffed monkeys with velcro paws. Try to eat a messy burger with a 30 pound monkey on your chest!!

We went home, had PDQ's B-Day cake and proceeded to cuddle on the couch. He even slept in his own bed. He was schmoopy to say the least. Gave him some Tylenol, just to make him well- less whiney.

He was up several times during the night, just miserable and warm. Not a fever, just warm in places he isn't usually.

This morning-- still no real 'fever' no other symptoms. He fought to get dressed, to leave, and then didn't talk all the way to the sitters. I gave her the lowdown, and a bottle of Tylenol.

So, I drove to work, knowing it was really my job to hold that little boy all day to day and be there if he threw up or took a turn for the worst. But I'm here, at work, running this program.

I know I chose to raise my kids without a partner, and I chose to have an expensive life that requires me to work. ...but man, days like today just suck.

Let's cross our fingers that maybe there is some 3 year old teething going on. Or that his body successfully beats whatever it is.....

What goes around...

2007-03-07T15:42:00.000-05:00

OH WHAT A DAY!

I now have proof. Actual proof that those who lie, and deny and blame others for their ineptitude might seem to get away with it at first. Eventually, the grand order of the universe bites them in the ass.

I don't wish anyone ill directly. However, watching someone whose life is exactly the result of the choices they've made, but blamed others for, hit speed bumps is just icing on the freaking' cake of fate.

I'm done laughing heartily from my ivory tower. Bad things do sometimes happen to good people. But when bad things happen to bad people, it sure is entertainment for the rest of us!

Perhaps it is my eternal optimism, perhaps I'm just joyously surprised that I don't feel sorry for this person at all, and will not, as is usually my habit, swoop in and solve all their problems, but really, whatever caused this, THANK YOU FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT.

What goes around comes around. You reap what you sow......my intent is to sow good. I'm not always right, but I do try really hard. Those who don't try at all....well there's the return on your investment.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

Wait a song is coming to mind....'You're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you...."

Carly Simon for 2007!!

Laugh with me, people. Thanks to GOD for making all this merriment possible.

10 Reasons I Regret this Whole Iron Girl thing some days...

2007-03-06T10:34:00.000-05:00

This morning, at 5:15 AM, my triathlete team and I did a mini triathlon. I swam for 10 minutes, biked for 20 and ran for 10. I came up with this list, trying to ignore the pain and exhaustion in various parts of my body.

1. Boobs- even if they're small, they jiggle and bounce. That is pain, people. Also fear of something bouncing out.
2. Hair - it is either in the way, looks like crap or requires post exercise preening.
3. Thighs - we have them. No matter how fit you are, they rub, and the less fit you are the more bounces
4. My Ass - WHO INVENTED BIKE SEATS AND DECIDED THEY SHOULD BE SMALL? My 'lady's garden' (requisite sweeping hand motion thanks to Mom-O-Matic) hurts. A lot. Thank God it sees no action.
5. Shaving - I'm of eastern European descent. The hairy, ape-like Europeans. All of the parts of my body that are required to be hairless for this are a maintenance nightmare. I can't even keep up with my brows, beard and mustache. I've lost the will to pluck!
6. Heels - You start a serious exercise program, then trot through your day in cute, 2 or 3 inch heels. Give me a freakin' break!
7. Back - sort of an ode to # 1 on the list, but I still have to get through my day. Even if my shoulders are in a knot. This may not be just girls, but there is a lot more riding on my back. (see # 8 regarding pillow, which may be contributory here)
8. Sleep - I'm so freakin' tired I can't see straight. Really. I want to take a nap. NOW. By the time I get the kids to bed, I'm awake. And ever since I left my pillow at PAguy's house, I've been unable to find the perfect pillow. I can't remember where I bought that one. I've spent more than $100 on FREAKIN' pillows. I want to go to his house and take my pillow back. But he'll think I'm trying to SEE him. I WANT MY EFFIN PILLOW, not a 6 foot 6 dumbass.
9. Food - I'm so hungry, I get dizzy sometimes. I still weigh 168 pounds. Haven't lost an ounce in 7 weeks. Nothing, save going face down in a bowl of pasta makes me feel better. There must be a better way. I just don't have the energy to find it.
10. Pee - I'm required to drink half my body weight in water every day. If I don't I hurt more, and I'm more miserable. You do the math on how often I have to pee.

One more thing. No matter how much I exercise, I'm still not comfortable showing any more of my body. I dream of being confident enough to wear a two piece. I'm hoping to get there, but I'm working my ass off and not losing any weight. I think this would be easier if some weight would fall off.

Meh. Head down. Push toward the end. No rest for the wicked.

I hope this thought helps my future MILF's when they're hitting a plateu. I hope theirs doesn't last 7 weeks.

"Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow-- that is patience."

My Visual DNA

2007-03-05T17:19:00.000-05:00

This was so cool. I just responded to whatever moved me at the moment-- didn't put a whole lot of thought into it.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Damsel In Distress

2007-03-04T16:39:00.000-05:00

I struggle with this whole strong woman thing. I feel like if I ask for help or if I let someone help me, I'm being weak and a bother. Then, when I don't I surely regret it. Good news for my blog readers because that behavior lends itself to funny stories!!

For example, when I had gall bladder surgery in December, my church offered meals. Was I STUPID! The kids were with their dad, and I was sure that it wouldn't be a problem, so I said thanks but no thanks. Until I got hungry and realized I didn't have it together enough to go to the store or make any decisions. I was miserable.

So yesterday, I'm riding my new bike with the clip pedals and was practicing on the cul-de-sac. I felt brave, so I thought I'd go the next road over and practice shifting on the tiny hill. Something wasn't right, my chain jumped off, and I couldn't get my foot out the clips fast enough...and I teetered over.

BAM! Tippytornado was looking on in horror, so, outside, I was smiling and reassuring him. Inside I crumbled.

I hit my left elbow pretty hard and it sort of rang my bell. I sat there on the road for a few minutes, dizzy, trying to get my left foot (which was under the bike) out of the clip so I could stand up. Then, I couldn't get my chain un jammed. WHY DID I CHOOSE SPORTS I KNEW NOTHING ABOUT? I sat on the ground, gathering myself, fighting the 'damsel in distress' tears. I got up and started walking the bike, figuring I'd wade into the X's tools in the garage and figure it out myself. Maybe I'd buy a book on bike repair.

To the rescue came my neighbor, Phil, complete with tools and bike knowledge. He adjusted all my stuff and looked pretty funny taking it all on a test drive. Big, tall, Phil on a teeny, girly bike. I didn't feel bad letting Phil help me, he was happy to do it.

My elbow was literally vibrating with pain. Gman came by later that day and kissed my boo boo. Maven suggested ice. I still felt so STUPID. I keep consoling myself with thoughts of, "at least I'm trying" but answer back with, "this certainly SOUNDED cooler than it actually is".

It's like the ladder story. Why did I buy a stupid ladder? Sooner or later someone would have helped me! But I apparently require a certain level of public confidence/competence-- even though it is only a charade. Why do I have to PROVE anything to myself? None if this is for any single person but me. (though it continues to piss me off/push me forward when my mother makes fun of me)

Today in triathlon class, my new bike required a complete change to my training equipment, requiring non-bike tools. I kept asking until someone had the wrenches I needed. I got to work, and one of the trainers was impressed that I could turn wrenches. She remarked that I was 'handy'. I just thought it was an odd comment for a group of people who are triathlon training and who need to know how to fix their bikes on the road. Tough bunch. They do events with Iron in the name. I should hope they're relatively 'handy' as a group.

As I was cycling, I was thinking...does she think I'm a wimp? Sure, I have a much lower fitness level than anyone in the class. I have to stop some times because my legs hurt. I actually limped out of this morning's workout. I didn't finish the last set of 4 minute intervals running at 6 miles an hour. It isn't that I don't want to try, but I don't know the limits between pushing myself and doing damage. My race is still 5 months out, so I'm OK with that. How does my fitness level equate with my ability to turn a wrench? Why do I care?

So where does the expectation lie? I can do lots of things for myself. Some times I need...dare I say PREFER help. I don't want to learn to do EVERYTHING... if someone wants to climb on my roof for me and fix my gutter covers, have at it baby! I'll write your resume, make you food or corral your kids some day.

I think that is the place that the biggest change is taking place inside me. I used to push people away like a two year old, "I do it myself!" I think I still do to some extent. But I'm learning.

Just like my quest to be able to hug with abandon (which I'm proud to report I did in church today-- friends actually email hug reports to my friend and acupuncturist) I need to find comfort with accepting help. Not that I want someone to take care of me, as much of a fantasy that is, I just want someone some times to suggest that if I'm limping on the left, I should carry my bag on the right. Or that I should ice that injury.

This is not going into significant other territory. If I look around my wide circle of friends, I have many someones that would help me with anything I need. I just need to ask. Then let them help.

That doesn't make me a damsel in distress, that makes me human. If I whine while I do it and toss my hair over my shoulder, then I'm a damsel! :-D

Judge Me. I live out loud.

2007-03-03T02:01:00.000-05:00

For the record.

What you see here is not ME in it's entirety. What I choose to discuss here is often just those items that perplex me the most, or are the funniest or the things I need to process OUT LOUD. Because I am an extrovert. I process out loud.

I don't think about what I'm about to write, nor how other people are going to react to it, or if they're going to like it. If I put that filter on, the filter I have to think about every other moment of my blessed life, then this wouldn't be fun any more. This is the place where you accept what I say at face value. If it resonates on some level. Cool. If not, that's just fine, too. I'll never have to face you.

On Thursday's post I referred to this dating thing as a teeny tiny detail. I meant it. In the greater picture of my life...teeny tiny. The rest of my life is pretty boring. Fabulous job, great kids, time spent at the gym, time spent with good friends, my family, my church family, etc. Really, the play by play is mundane.

So to answer the well-meaning person who reads only this blog and knows nothing else and says to herself, "Have you ever thought about just taking some time for yourself without a man? Just a thought."

All this time is for me. Every minute of it. I'm sucking the life out of it as hard as I can. There is a big difference between going on a date and 'having' a man. Everything I'm doing is for me...so I guess the answer is no, I haven't thought about it in particular. I'm just doing my thing.

I CHOOSE to seek occasional male companionship and discuss it here because I'm most inexperienced and confused by the whole business. My choices to seek female friends is pretty boring stuff so I don't talk about it much. My choices to take the kids on adventures are fun, but not exciting. Nothing there to process through. My choice to compete in a triathlon in itself sucks up an incredible amount of time and energy. I could do a whole blog on just what I'm learning about my body and nutrition and the whole thing alone. I choose not to because it is for me and I don't know another single soul who wants to hear me whine about muscle aches or how tired I am or how hungry I am. I do brag about how I can't pinch fat on the outside of my thighs, though. Because I've never been this healthy in my life.

I am seeing a counselor, who I've talked about here. My obsession with working out, my children and every other detail is healthy because I obsess about everything pretty much equally.

The hope of actually regularly dating someone I care about some day makes all this processing and learning necessary. There are so many things I don't know about myself that I can't learn sitting alone in my house with my friends Ben and Jerry. I learn by doing. By making mistakes. By living out loud.

I want to be healthy and ready when the opportunity for companionship presents itself. I've got a long way to go. I have volumes to learn.

So, go ahead judge me if you want. But know the facts first. I live out loud.

HMSF - My Fine Is $455.60

2007-03-02T10:53:00.000-05:00

Today's celebration is all about the fun. (I'm skipping an MILF report because it is just more of the same....I'm thinking time laps photography of my belly might be in order.)

But I digress....

This is fun to do. Just read the "offense" and if you've done it, you owe that fine. Keep going until you've read each offense and added up your total fine. When you are done, blog it. Title your post "My fine is $....."
You don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine.
1. Smoked pot -- $10
2. Did acid -- $5
3. Ever had sex at church -- $25
4. Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you -- $40
5. Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
6. Had sex for money -- $100
7. Ever had sex with the a Puerto Rican -- $20
8. Vandalized something -- $20
9. Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
10. Beat up someone -- $20
11. Been jumped -- $10
12. Crossed dressed -- $10
13. Given money to stripper -- $25
14. Been in love with a stripper -- $20
15. Kissed some one who's name you didn't know -- $0.10
16. Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
17. Ever drive drunk -- $20
18. Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
19. Used toys while having sex -- $30
20. Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
21. Went skinny dipping -- $5
22. Had sex in a pool -- $20
23. Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
24. Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
25. Cheated on your significant other -- $10
26. Masturbated -- $10
27. Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend -- $20
28. Done oral -- $5
29. Got oral -- $5
30. Done / got oral in a car while it was moving -- $25
31. Stole something -- $10
32. Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
33. Made a nasty home video -- $15
34. Had a threesome -- $50
35. Had sex in the wild -- $20
36. Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
37. Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
38. Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
39. Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
40. Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
41. Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
42. Went streaking -- $5
43. Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
44. Been arrested -- $5
45. Spent time in jail -- $15
46. Peed in the pool -- $0.50
47. Played spin the bottle -- $5
48. Done something you regret -- $20
49. Had sex with your best friend -- $20
50. Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
51. Had anal sex -- $80
52. Lied to your mate -- $5
53. Lied to your mate a bout the sex being good -- $25

Tally it up and post it in comments...please!

Lovin' the questions...

2007-03-01T08:53:00.000-05:00

..but first a boob report. The new bra is faaabulous and the twins are singing 'Up Where We Belong'.

So, I resolve to 'love the questions', right? Tuesday I was angry at the questions....really I have made every dream I've ever had come true and on this teeny tiny thing...I have to sit and wait for BIOLOGY?

DID YOU NOT HEAR ME! MY WAY RIGHT AWAY!

I ran and worked off all the excess energy not having any sex tends to build up coupled with an intense amount of anger and frustration. How could they not me into ME? They don't even know how broken I really am and once they do...well...forget it.

All is right in my head at this point... and I am resolved that they're not into me and it isn't the right time anyway.

Just as I take two steps forward.....my phone buzzes with a txt message from Fireguy. Simple check in stuff that would be normal from someone I know well, but I barely know him. So I try to blow it off, ask him not to be a stranger....yeah right. As a matter of fact, I should have said just that....'YEAH, RIIIIIIGHT'. Though I really could use his running coaching and may ask him just as a friend to help me out. I'm slowly losing my motivation there.

Then, Cute Gym Guy is in class yesterday. We were supposed to swim this morning..which would have been cool, but my mom is out of town. I didn't remember 'till I got home and with no contact info., I'm hoping he's not peeved that I blew him off. It wasn't really a formal arrangement anyway, more like, "I'll see you there!" sort of thing. But again, no contact info...so even if we're just workout buddies (he is motivating to work out with) it's cool, but shit happens. Sorry.

Then, a friend from Yahoo (whom I've never met but had some very DEEEP conversations with) calls. We've been talking for 2-3 months. He offers to rock my world, as always. Just his voice and the way he talks to me wakes me up in ways I just don't need. He leads me into temptation if you know what I mean. But I can't and won't go that way. If he were that into me, he'd take me to dinner...then rock my world. I do melt a teeny bit when I hear his voice, though...

Surely Baltimore Guy will message me today. Because that's apparently the cycle. I lose my mind, then they make contact. And I over analyze every bit of it until I lose my mind again.

I'm not letting the rubber band pull me back into madness this time. It stings too much.

If they're not that into me, then hopefully something shiny will distract them and they'll leave me alone. I've got to find something shiny...pronto.

Retail Therapy

2007-02-28T09:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was recovering from my epiphany and a weekend that wasn't all it was cracked up to be. So after work, I went to the gym (ran just under 4 miles thankyouverymuch), showered and headed to the mall. After hitting several sales, I was home, showing the boys what I'd bought.

First to Bath and Body for more Vanilla Jasmine moisturizer...hmmmm who needs perfume when you can rub that all over your body!! The boys said, "Ewww STINKY!" and STBX rolled his eyes (he gets tuck in duty on Tuesdays and always hated that stuff-- which is why I slather it on now).

Then to my Victoria's Secret bag....I had a coupon for free undies and $10 off a bra.

I pulled the bra out of the bag and Tippytornado screamed, "MOMMY'S GOT NEW BOOBIES!!!"

It was the new, molded push up one, and yes, it looked like it was already full. We were in hysterics.

I quickly put it back in the bag and moved onto the shoes I'd bought for them and myself....but his excitement at my New Boobies never really subsided.

So glad someone is excited about my new bra! :-D

The Epiphany

2007-02-26T21:08:00.000-05:00

Yep, I'm waaay off on the liturgical calendar. But sometimes, heaven and earth moves on my terms, not Jesus'.

Today was a sucky day. I finally found someone saying AGAIN..."have you read 'He's Just Not That Into You'?...you'd really enjoy it" and I finally said back, "if I hear that one more time I'm going to kill myself". OK ALREADY!

See, someone I trusted, however inadvertently, pretty much called me a slut for talking to multiple guys at the same time. It really broke my heart. Because you'd expect a friend to tell you to your face you've taken it a little too far. I thought that was what being single was about? Just getting to know what's out there. It isn't like I'd seen anyone many, many times, or promised fidelity-- in fact, I was quite up front about exactly what I was doing. I was on Yahoo freakin' personals for God's sake. The electronic meat market.

To boot, I was angry that after going to the meat market again, I STILL went home feeling like the ugly fat girl I thought I'd out grown. So, why do I give THESE OTHER people the power to judge me? I dunno. But I hope I've gotten burned enough to be done.

So, after work, Tippytornado and I went right to Borders. 'He's Just Not That Into You' is such a good book, I was reading it in traffic. I read it through dinner. I laughed so hard I had to put it down and go do some laundry to recover. I am in that book, in so many places it's sad, but funny because no one makes fun of me better than me. (well, maybe my mother)

I ended my marriage because he just wasn't into me. Did that knowledge and strength carry into my dating life? NOPEROONY! I repeated all the same bizarre behavior.

Keeping the weekend open because I'M sure he'll come by and surprise me. Sending witty, pithy text messages to get a conversation started, sending gifts to his friends so they'll HAVE to talk about me. Triggering a memory. And a phone call. Just because I want him to know I'm thinking of him.

What did I learn from the book? If a guy was into me, he'd think about me often....and ask me quesitons about the mundane crap in my life. He'd make sure my weekend was booked with him so I didn't make a date with someone else. If he's not the kind of guy to take charge, and I have to, I really don't want him, do I? Noperoony!

Even the guy I'm actually sort of dating-- he's not that into me. Don't know how I didn't fall into that typical trap, though with him-- he talks constantly about if we have a future together it will be this way, or when you marry into my family it will be that way, or when I stay over the boys will stay in their own rooms (I even had a few moments of HEY SLOW DOWN SPARKY! YOU'VE NOT BEEN INVITED TO COACH KARATEBOY'S LITTLE LEAGUE YET!). If you calculate the same kinda talk in accordance with my other relationship behavior, I normally would have been shopping for wedding gowns by now. For some reason, I just sort of laugh at him and have another drink. MAYBE I'M JUST NOT INTO HIM. (I'll give you a minute to register surprise)

This is a big moment for me. Do you hear the choir of angels?

The book did help me feel powerful in not wondering why they don't call. I know it isn't my problem. I have my triathlon goals to cuddle and music to shovel snow with and my blog to watch movies with on the weekend. I just need to learn new habits and behaviors and each time I'm confronted with a new situation I don't freak out and go all gooey. I know it mostly happens when I'm not consumed with being a mother.

Here it is in bold: The fact that they're just not into me isn't necessarily a reflection that there is something wrong with me. Nothing I want to change right now, anyhow. I get enough positive validation from those who love me. If I were crazy, surely they'd be the first to tell me, RIGHT!?!?!?

That is the second point I learned from the book. Friends, please stop nodding your head and encouraging me to just get laid already? There are two paths to getting laid, the first is dangerous behavior with a stranger (I've got 2-3 standing offers for that right now from guys I've chatted with online for several months but never met), the second is to be in a relationship with someone. (there is the third -- that I'm a slutty whore-- and I'm hoping to dispel that rumor in short order)

For the second, there needs to be mutual into each otheredness. Do you get it? Only one person has been THAT into me, but it wasn't mutual. He's wonderful and attentive and strong. I really do enjoy talking and spending time with him. I'm just not attracted to him. I told him flat out on the 3rd or 4th date, because unlike the guys I've been into I AM NOT A COWARD. I was taking Neil Clark Warren's advice about knowing by the 2nd date. He still messages me. I look forward to our friendship. But I don't want to lead him on, and I guess I'm too shallow to try to fall for him anyway.

So friends, please...when I start getting all googly and overlooking obvious flaws-- like the fact he only calls me after he's drunk. Or that he says he wants to have dinner, then never calls. Could you remind me of these things? I just need reinforcement and coaching while I'm practicing.

I'm not being a shallow bitch expecting to be pursued. If you want me, pursue me, and I'll respond honestly. The sad part of the book is the truest-- statistically, it will be a long time before I find what I'm looking for. This gives me time to figure it out and make lists. Maybe they'll be as poetic as Sizzle's. Right now they read like job descriptions (occupational hazard, I think!). And time for the other person to get to the same mental spot in time exactly that they want to be with me.

Once I heard that finding intelligent life in space is hard because the other planet would need to be in nearly the same phase of it's life as earth. That is, it can't be right after life formed or a billion years after life on that planet died out. Synching up our time with theirs is a very narrow wedge-- so that we'd be able to recognize and appreciate said life forms. I think finding the love of your life is the same way.

So someone send me this quote today, "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions”

So I'm living the questions. And waiting for my wedge in time and the other person that will want to chase after me. I'm surely not going to find it at the meat market.

Could you all remind me of it in two weeks when I start to freak out because I don't have the kids and I'm all alone? Please only encourage the 'He's Just Not Into You' sanctioned behaviors. It is going to take a while to detox, but with your support, I can do it. I'll even share my copy of the book with you because you will laugh your freakin' ass off. (yes even the guys should read, because they have given me the WORST guy advice to date)

So, I asked my 7 year old for advice (he is a guy in training, right?). 'Karateboy, if you had a cell phone, how many times a day do you think you'd call me?'

'All the time, because I think of you all the time because I love you, my brother and my Power Rangers'

....from the mouths of babes, huh?

WOO HOO SNOW!

2007-02-25T17:02:00.000-05:00

This is the first snow storm without the kids. Shoveling was a little lonely without anyone to yell at. Plus, just as I was getting ready to get off line and go shovel, I noticed the guy I met on Valentine's Day online. The back story there is that he knew I was free this weekend. He last contacted me on Tuesday. I sent a witty note back. Then nothing. Ya'll know how I feel about nothing.

So I sent him a message inviting him to shovel. No response.

I went outside. Music on, and it went a little somethin' like this:

"where the streets have no name...!"

why is it that there are so many perfectly decent people complaining they can't find a perfectly decent member of the opposite sex?? because half of us are crazy. and the other half are stupid.

Insert shovel, heave, insert shovel HEAVE!

"uh haaaa where the streets have no name..."

..at least have the decency to call. Say, please don't message me again. Don't just hide.

shovel, heave, shovel heave...what a pretty, light snow- perfect for snow people --shovel HEAVE shovel HEAVE!

"in the naaaame of looove.."

fuck love. I just don't want to shovel alone. I want to pick up a pile of snow and heave it at someone and laugh my ass off. Then kiss them.

Maybe.

Maybe I like this whole martyred woman thing. I mean, there is a guy or two who likes me. I should just be happy for that. Maybe I should lay off the drama for a while. whatever.

Shovel, HEAVE, shovel, HEAVE, shovel, HEAVE!

"..because you're so smooooth 'cause it's just like the ocean under the moon, it's same as the emotion that I get from yooouuu..."

...nah, I'm a good and decent person. But do I have an over-inflated sense of self? Look at what impatience and lack of sense did for me the LAST time.

shovel, HEAVE,shovel HEAVE.

By the time I finished my driveway,

I was good and pissed off.

So I went on, switched to heavier rock music, and finished the side yard. This picture is courtesy of Nickleback:

Then, I noticed the neighbors were out of town, and it would suck to come home to a full driveway, so I shoveled for them, too. They were very grateful. Surely this will score me fresh baked cookies.

I am Iron Mom

2007-02-23T09:27:00.001-05:00

At the church thing Thursday night playing twister when someone else's 7 year old climbs on my back. And I left him there, and continued to play the game.

Another parent marvelled, and I laughed, cause I'm pretty much used to it. GMan and I joked that we should host the Iron Mom Tri Athlon. For example, there would be three events: 1) running with groceries 2) driving while feeding children 3)baking brownies with a kid on your back.

Wait...that sounds like every day?? Doesn't it?

I'm open to suggestions. That is just the kind of event that this city would embrace whole heartedly. We could wear MILF patches on our sleeves...

MILF Checkin/Hot Monkey Sex Friday

2007-02-23T08:35:00.000-05:00

Seems sort of odd to keep combining the two but I'm all about efficiency.

As for the MILF update. FANTASTIC week. I took yesterday off and it was soooo much harder to get started again today. Mid-week the scale went down 3 pounds. Today, it is right back where it has been all along. Do I get a consistency award?

Oh, and I have a beef!! Why is it taboo to talk about your weight? I am what I am. I'm tired of skirting the subject and having people GASP when they find the truth. I'm 168.5 pounds. Some days I'm 170. Some days I'm 166. But most days I'm 168.5 pounds. I'm 5'2", clinically considered morbidly obese. Ask anyone who knows me though, there is nothing morbid nor obese about me. I've been working out 6-8 times a week for the last 5 weeks. I can run a 5K, swim 1,000 yards and bike for miles. I can run after my children and dance all night long. Since I started working out at this pace, I can't possibly be over eating because I'm STARVING most of the time.

My size 12P jeans keep sliding down. My ribs stick out. My thighs still jiggle but I think it is muscular-- cause the cellulite is going away. Even my wrists are noticably tinier. I still have the baby pouch, but alas, I've had two babies and didn't do anything about it when the time was right. I'm afraid if I push to lose too much weight, I'll lose my boobs and we CANNOT HAVE THAT!

I think people gasp when they hear I'm about 170 lbs because everyone else so routinely lies about it. The measurement assumption is skewed. So, FUCK the weight. I'm going to measure my MILF success in miles, baby.

No good pictures of Hot Monkey Sex Friday today. Gman had put the camera away by the time I whipped out Twister with the kiddies last night. Thankfully, though, because he also pointed out that my pink panties were making an appearance above the waist line of my pants!!

I have seeing a gentleman friend this evening, but I have no grand plans for HMS. I dunno. It isn't that I don't want the physical act (GOD do I need to have my world rocked!) my heart just isn't in it. I know I can count on good food, good wine, excellent conversation, and very big laughs. So YEAH! me!

Just a quick quote...

2007-02-21T16:01:00.000-05:00

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort
-Herm Albright

See I am perky with an edge!

You decide

2007-02-21T13:47:00.000-05:00

So, my friend finally got a response today...on Wednesday...after an incident on Saturday. What do you think, friends? 'Cause everyone has an opinion.

My thought is that if he’s telling the truth, he’s a loser and really doesn’t have his act together. He was at the mall for God’s sake. He eventually got everything resolved, and could have messaged immediately. Instead he caused 3 days of heartbreak. Here is his message (exactly as he mailed it, of course names are removed:

....you cant believe that it was planed that i not meet you on sat.......first i want to say how sorry i m for not calling you to let you know what happen...GOD KNOWS I'M SO SORRY....AND HOPE WHEN YOU HERE WHAT HAPPEN YOU CAN FORGIVE ME.........THE REASON I DIDNT CALL MY PHONE WAS IN THE CAR..... NOW THIS IS WHAT HAPPEN......SATURDAY..WHEN I GOT TO THE MALL..I PARKED AT THE TOP OF THE LOT IN FRONT OF SEARS TO USE THE RESTROOM...LEFT MY PHONE IN THE CAR.WHEN I REALIZED I DID NT HAVE I WHEN BACK TO GET IT ....AND BEHOLD THEY HAD TOWED THE CAR.THE COPS TOLD ME I PARKED SO THAT THE BUSES COULD NOT MAKE THE TURN..FIRST OF ALL I DIDNT KNOW THAT A BUS CAME THROUGH THE MALL....AND THE PROBLEM WAS THE CAR WASNT IN MY NAME SO I CAUGHT HELL AND I DO MEAN HELL GETTING IT BACK..I TOLD YOU THE CAR BELONG TO A DEALER FRIEND OF MINE..I DIDNT GET HIM UNTIL MONDAY MORN.....AND MY PHONE WAS IN THE CAR..THAT JUST THE START.OF A TERRIBLE WEEKEND.....I'M SO VERY SORRY....SANDY I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO COME OUT OF THE MALL AND SE THE HAPPENING.....I DIDNT CALL BECAUSE MY PHONE WAS IN THE CAR AND I DIDNT HAVE YOUR # ON HAND...YOU MUST ....FOR THE LOVE OF GOD FORGIVE ME....AND WHEN I SAW YOU HAD TOOK MY OFF YOUR IM.LIST,,I JUST SAID OH WELL THERE COMES SANDY.......I REALLY TOOK A BEATING THIS WEEK AND I'M SURE YOU DID TOO..THE REASON....I DIDNT CALL AFTER THAT BECAUSE YOU SOUNDED SO LIKE YOU WOULD NOT UNDERSTAND.AND BESIDES YOU FORWARDED THAT YOU WOULD CUT A RELATIONSHIP OFF AT FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE...AGAIN ONCE I SAW YOU TAKE ME OFF YOU IM ...I THOUGHT YOU ARE FINISH.I'M NOT PLEASE CALL.I WILL TELL YOU MORE...I DIDNT GET THE CAR BACK UNTIL TUESDAY MORNING OR MT PHONE.PLEASE GIVE ME A CALL OR EMAIL ...I HOPE WE CAN FIX THIS.....

Well, weigh in fans....

Seething with Anger

2007-02-20T12:04:00.000-05:00

What makes perfectly normal guys act like complete idiots? Please tell me.

Someone very close to me has been single for 8 years. The Internet has been her way of making friends and experiencing life. She's had an ad on one of the free dating sites for quite some time.

Last week, a man started messaging her...calling her 3-4 times a day. I even spoke to this man on the phone because he cancelled a V-Day date with her at the last minute. I was peeved because I could have had a date that day, but since she had one, I've had to wait 'till this weekend.

There wasn't a moment that those two weren't chatting about EVERYTHING. He seemed like a really nice man, a little heavy, but just perfect for this other person.

They had a date Friday night. She was waiting at Starbucks, and he even called her when he was in the parking lot. Then NOTHING. He didn't show, no calls, no e-mails. There she was, hair blow dried, makeup on, sitting in Starbucks just waiting.

Doesn't your heart just sit like a rock in your chest? Clearly, his family would have contacted her by now and she would have seen the emergency crews trying to revive him if he'd died of a heart attack in the parking lot?? RIGHT??

I'm thinking the shallow dumbass saw her (even though her pictures are VERY accurate) and changed his mind. She is beautiful and sweet, albeit heavy. It isn't something she hides. He's no Lance Armstrong himself, you know?

At the very least he owed her an introduction. Ended a short coffee with, 'hey I'm just not attracted to you." Or sent an e-mail to the same effect after. Hell, I still scheduled the 'bail out call' with someone if there isn't a convenient end time to our first meeting.

Instead nothing. Sorta the way PAGuy handled me in the end. Just nothing.

What kind of disrespectful, lowdown, dirty scum would do that to someone after chasing them and getting their hopes up?

It is all I can do not to call him myself. As a matter of fact, I just might. Tell him what he did to someone I love and how he should be ashamed of himself. How he purports himself to be a Christian but doesn't show the basic grace, mercy and maturity that befits a man.

I know this pain all too well. Effin' cowards. I've told a perfectly nice guy that I'm not attracted to him. It sucked. But it was fair and honest.

I'm sure we all agree that she obviously was too good for him. He is a coward and I hope his next conquest gives him the clap.

6 odd things about me

2007-02-19T08:20:00.000-05:00

Posh tagged everyone who reads her to meme '6 odd things about me'. So excited to include myself-- narrowing the field to just six is a challenge. I tend to pride myself in my extraordinary traits.

1. I can touch my nose with my tongue
2. I hold my breath underwater with my upper lip (thereby completely blocking my nose with a vast piece of skin)
3. My mother is clearly my mother--- but the other half of my biological origins are a mystery to me-- and sshhh! we're not allowed to talk about it-- 'cause the family tree might have a loop in the branch.
4. I love 7th Heaven and have for years....icky acting and all...deep inside I want to be good! There was a short time that I wanted to study divinity and become a Lutheran Pastor
5. My 'big' toe is actually shorter than the next toe by about a half an inch. On both feet. Old ladies tell me that shows I'm smart. Others are just grossed out.
6. I collected teddy bears-- Cherished Teddies to be exact. Didn't think it was odd until I saw the look on GMan's face upon learning about said collection--- we'd been friends for 8 years. Something about the juxtaposition of teddy bears and smut talk....I dunno.

TAG! You're it now! All five of my faithful readers.

He ate the WHOLE THING!

2007-02-18T20:03:00.000-05:00

Karateboy finished the half pound burger at Cheeburger Cheeburger. (Parents whose children don't eat, take heart....he only started eating in the last year.)

Oh and he ordered it all by himself....I just need to teach him to order takeout and my work is done! OH, fun in Columbia on a Sunday night...you can't see the ketchup and mustard all over his shirt. He's so proud to have his picture on the wall now.

I DID IT!!

2007-02-18T12:52:00.000-05:00

Oh My GOD!!

So, I'm like, at the gym, ok...and like we did the whole cycling thing this morning at 7AM.

Then, we usually run. Last week, I stayed in on the treadmill and whined the whole time about how my legs hurt.

Today, I remembered my IPOD, and I was determined to do the full workout and try to time out at about 11 minutes a mile.

Well, wooo MY HOOO! I did the 5 minute warm up, 5 minute intervals (fast then slow then fast then slow) then the 5 minutes in zone II (breathing heavy where you can just lose your ability to talk).

Then, as the last one was ending, I thought, heck, I'll do 5 more minutes. 'Cause the size 1 chick on the treadmill next to me was flying. Then, I didn't want to die so much, so I did 5 minutes more.

Before I knew it I was at 2.5 miles and averaging 11:06/mile!!! The race length is 3.5!! So not to be outdone, I did a little more and stopped around 3.8!!

I could run the WHOLE RACE! Who knew?? I ran the miles AFTER cycling!!

So, do I go to the gym a little early tomorrow to run before spin class???? HHMMM?

Let's see if I can walk tomorrow. Then we'll decide. BUT WOO HOO! I CAN RUN A 5K and not die!!!

GROW UP!

2007-02-17T08:41:00.000-05:00

It is a very rare day when I mention my job or my profession on this blog. Obviously, getting dooced is always in my mind, but basically, I bitch here. There is very little to bitch about, very few really good stories of interest when it comes to my job. I work with and for people I love like family and am genuinely proud every day that I get to be around them and learn from them-- and that they put up with me.

Yesterday was my 9th anniversary with the company. My has time flown. I have been in the same general profession for 13 years. It is time for me to complain. Just this once. And maybe, just maybe, someone will bitch a little less at their HR department, or not look down their noses when I proudly pipe up about my chosen line of work.

People who work in HR like to help other people. That is who we are. We like people. There is nothing like a job in HR to make you think that maybe you don't like them as much as you thought.

My one request that would change the lives of HR people across the country is this: Please stop confusing customer service with entitlement. What I mean is, there are basic things folks do every day all across the country that one could easily say are basic daily functions of being an adult in the United States. Things like, eating, dressing, driving a car, responding to requests for information, balancing your checkbook, updating your address when you move. Of of course the granddaddy of them all.. when your company e-mails you 10,000 times to enroll for benefits 'cause it's that time of year BY ALL MEANS CONSIDER IT A PERSONAL INVITATION!

I know an entire list of very educated, very productive, functional adults who take complete leave of their senses when it comes to things they think someone else ought to be doing for them in the name of customer service.

Please think of it this way. You work really hard to bring in revenue (I'm sorry, folks in sales are the WORST). I work really hard to reinvest that revenue in ways that make you want to bring in more revenue with compensation, training, benefits and an array of other programs. our team puts stuff in place to make your lives as easy as possible. Really. That's the goal.

However, in my years of advanced education, I have not learned mind reading. Try as I might, I don't know what benefits you want, or how you want your taxes withheld or how many sugars you like in your coffee. Frankly I don't care, but that is besides the point. THOSE CHOICES ARE ONLY SOMETHING YOU CAN MAKE. It is not my fault, nor my staff's when you don't perform a basic task or respond to communications.

Don't get me wrong. When something isn't right, I track the details down, get the right people involved and solve the problem/improve the situation. It is just plain sad, though, when my hands are tied simply 'cause you didn't play your role in this little dance.

I'll make a deal with you. If you really want a staff of folks to wipe your ass and read your mind, I'll be happy to take that revenue you bring in and re-deploy it. Of course it's going to cost you. For example, would you rather we pay 80% of your medical costs, or reduce that to 50% so that we can hire someone to chase you down and beg you to tell us which plan you'd like and whom you'd like to cover.

Oh, and when you miss a teeny detail like annual enrollment, you tell everyone you know, draw your own conclusions and whip 15 people into a frenzy. Thereby increasing the fire I have to fight by 15X. I can't really focus on you when you've launched an all out attack, right? But since you've already told everyone you meet how stupid and worthless we are, I find it really hard to kiss your ass. Wow...isn't it cool when your customers do that? Instead of you spending your time doing what you do best, you're in their offices teaching them what a mouse is and that you shouldn't hang magnets on their computer.

Please think like a business person at work. You have one person to look after (well, and your family, too) we've got thousands. And the job just doesn't come with any sort of artificial intelligence or ESP. If you are so inept at detail, hire your own assistant. They'd get you coffee, and pick up your dry cleaning, too. Lord knows you make enough...don't even get me started on the pain of watching your bonus checks flow through!!!

Happy Saturday!

MILF Checkin/Hot Monkey Sex Friday

2007-02-16T10:37:00.000-05:00

Sorry, guys. I just don't have the energy to celebrate with you. Or take pictures of my new muscles. It has been a week. So just a quick update on my very kicked ass.

Rough week with the boys and behavior....not being in school has us all a little cranky.

No weight loss, but you knew that. I can run two miles but it takes like 30-40 minutes. I can swim 1000 yards, but it takes like an hour. I know with practice I'll be amazing so I purge forward, just happy that I can do it at all. A new friend who is a running coach said I should run 4-5 times a week to really get better. UGH! When the weather is above freezing, perhaps I'll run to the gym and back. That's a coupla miles...

So, the spring in yesterday's step was because there was a cute guy who wanted to take me to dinner, and he's got all the qualities on my 'list'. We met for coffee, and I couldn't stop staring at his eyes....we talked for an hour.

As I was leaving, he said he'd catch up with me later. I sent an e-mail saying thanks for meeting me..I hope it was worth it for you. Then, I waited all day for just the teeniest response. Nothing.

During Greys Anatomy (oh my GOD! It was so good) I saw him online, so I waited a few minutes and messaged him-- something like, "did you like my green skin and warts, 'cause if you didn't, I'm ok with that..."

Of course, he laughed, but it was a veeerrry slow conversation. He said he'd like to see me a again and said some sweet things, but I can't get a read at all. So no spring today...just puzzlement. How could he not be into me, 'cause I'm awesome. Or maybe he is and he actually knows how to play it cool. Or he's just as puzzled by me.

The good news is, that this is a relatively small town, and we likely know some of the same people. I'm counting on my network of fans to let him know how super-fantastic I am and that he ought to get to know me.

Then again, I'm in no hurry. The funny thing is how many guys seemed to crawl out of the woodwork yesterday from my recent past. They did the same thing after New Years Eve .... do they say to themselves-- well, my holiday's sucked, I bet Esme is desperate??

I dunno, maybe the chicks from the ladies room can explain.....first the 'catch you later' than they don't and second the after holiday desperation call....

Wrap up from yesterday...

2007-02-15T12:11:00.000-05:00

In the house, all day with the boys, with work to get done, and snow and ice outside....it was not one of my best days. Karateboy took off, despite my request that he stay on OUR property. I had a general idea of where we he was, but I didn't want to WALK there...although, here in Columbia, the jogging paths are plowed before the roads. Fitness First!

The fun was definitely the constant kisses and hugs and well wishes from all of my admiring fans, even the ones I keep pushing away.

Karateboy was examining his conversation hearts and said, "Mommy, these aren't complete thoughts..." His teachers would be SO proud. Try to fit a complete thought on a little teeny heart. Darned if I didn't read every freakin' one both boys dug out of their boxes..... the discussions of what the cute little phrases meant-- especially with the chatty Tippytornado made me really happy to be a mom.

So the best? The best was that I could have had a date...but opted to play it cool. I met him for coffee today and things look promising. (See me? How cool is that? I'm not even bouncing of the walls about his hotness, or his sweetness or anything!! COOOOL! That's me. I'm going to stop talking about it now 'cause that's what cooool people do. They are unruffleable)

It is a long and funny story, but I can't share lest I jinx it....I'll share details after it tanks (which is my luck). Let's just say there is a spring in my step and a smile today, and it isn't all just the exercise/Starbucks high!

Love is NECESSARY!

2007-02-14T07:44:00.000-05:00

Personally, I'm surrounded by love. Tippytornado caught me tearing up during Dumbo and gave me hugs and kisses until I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Karateboy was sitting on my lap telling me about his day, and stroking my hair....and I got three 'I love you's' out of that one. I am proud of the fact, that I may not have taught Tippy his alphabet, but I take credit (at least partial) for the fact that he's not afraid to show affection--- in abundance!

Each day friends and family and I share our love for one another more than ever before. It wasn't until I was about 30 that I started to make it a point to end every conversation with someone I love with an 'I love you'. Just in case, 'cause life is short.

So, today is in honor of that love, and the folks I love know it 'cause I walk the talk all year long.

I stumbled on this web site, which has incredible amounts of useful information. But my favorite (other than 'How to Become a Millionaire') is 'Scientific Proof That We All Need Love' .

That goes hand in hand with my assertion that we also need touching and hugging and smiles. I'm sure there is science somewhere to support that.

2007-02-13T10:53:00.000-05:00

I was gonna play two truths and a lie, but this hit my in-box today, so I took the easy way out. I think some of you'll be surprised by my responses...Some of them are the funniest stories!! Stay tuned for future blogs on that one....

Copy and Paste.
Put an X in front of all the things you have done.
Remove the X from the things you have not and send it to all your friends (including me) .
This is for your entire life:
( ) Smoked a cigarette
(x) Drank so much you threw up
( ) Crashed a friend's car
( ) Stolen a car
(x) Been in love
(x) Been dumped
( ) Been laid off/fired
(x) Been in a fist fight
( ) Been shot at
( ) Been stabbed
( ) Snuck out of your parent's house
(x) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
( ) Gone on a blind date
(x) Skipped school
(x) Seen someone die
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
(x) Been lost
(x) Been on the opposite side of the country
(X) Swam in the ocean
(x) Felt like dying
(x) Cried yourself to sleep
(x) Recently colored with crayons
(x) Sang karaoke
(x) Paid for a meal with only coins..(vending machine at work..does that count?)
(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't...
(x) Made prank phone calls
(x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(x) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(x) Danced in the rain
(x) Written a letter to Santa Claus
( ) Been kissed under the mistletoe
( ) Watched the sun rise with someone you care about or love
(x) Blown bubbles
( ) Made a bonfire on the beach
( ) Crashed a party
(x) Gone roller-skating
(x) Ice-skating1.
Do you have any nicknames? Esmerelda, Woozy
2. What is your favorite drink? Chai Tea Latte
3. Tattoos? No4. Any piercing? Ears
5. How much do you love your job? I'm really VERY lucky! I do!
6. Favorite vacation spot? The Beach
7. Ever been to Africa ? No8. Ever steal any traffic signs? No-- but I planned it
9. Ever been in a car accident? Yes10. How many door does your car have? 511. Salad dressing? vinaigrette
12 Favorite number? 7
13. Favorite holiday? Christmas
14. Favorite food? Indian15. Favorite Day of the week? Saturday
16. Favorite brand of body soap? Dove17. Favorite Tooth Paste? Whatever is on sale
18. Favorite smell? the ocean
19. What do you do to relax? Read, watch movies
20. Message to friends/family reading this? You CAN do it, just depends on how much effort you want to put into it.
21. How do you see yourself in 10 years? Taking over the world
22. What do you do when you are bored? lose my mind...
23. Whats the farthest you will send this? The Internet is endless...I'm blogging!
24. Who will respond the fastest? no idea
25. Least likely to respond? no idea

Mondays SUCK!!

2007-02-12T19:44:00.000-05:00

2AM...."MOOOOOOMAAAAAAEEEE!"

"Wha?? Huh?? Ugh..."

"Mommy I threw uuuup."

EW. I twas in a need little noodly pile, but it managed to touch everything just a little. The jammies, the sheet, the comforter, the pillow.....ugh...and my should blades were so aching....ugh...

His first question was, "what are those worms? oh...yeah..chicken noodle soup"

I swallowed hard and tried not to breathe in. I have no back up, so I can't lose my noodles, too!

I ordered him to take his slightly pukey jammies off as I take the bed stuff to the basement. As I head donw the stairs, I holler over my shoulder, "you can climb in my bed when you're done"

Came back upstairs, he was in my bed WITH THE NASTY JAMMIES! Ugh...I roust him out, and make him change.

Back to bed. Shoulders hurt. Heating pad, rice bag, nothing is helping. Oh, man...

5AM came waaaay too early. Karateboy snoring like crazy. Snooze...alarm didn't go off. 5:20 CRAP! Class is at 5:45....and cute gym guy might be there.

Of course, he wasn't. I worked from home, I'm tired, my shoulders hurt, I need to go make the beds and no flirting today.

Meh. But I think, if I don't lose any weight this week, I'm posting pictures of my rock hard legs and my ribs...cause you can see them now. HAH!

...and I STILL made it to church!

2007-02-11T20:57:00.000-05:00

That's right....I partied with friends at the meat market until 1AM...made my 7 AM workout....went to church...took the longest, hottest shower....then went to sleep.

What a weekend!

So, they say it is a meat market...and while there were, um, distractions...it took 4 shots of tequila for me to feign any interest. Then, a friend of a friend, danced with us...but I HAD to leave to get some sleep. Besides, my wing-girl wasn't feeling well and her dancing friend wasn't gentleman enough to walk her to her car (or show up on time).

The drinking doesn't mix well with the training. I have to find a balance. Another outing is planned for next Friday. I'm sorta glad I'm doing this a little wiser and older....I wouldn't have savored the fun nearly as much 10 years ago....

Josh, the obviously young Matthew Foxish looking guy (from Lost) was on our radar, we called him speechless...as was a marine just back from Iraq (we get a LOT of that here). Conversations were as deep as a puddle, and the crowd was deep. Ran into an old friend from Yahoo personals....he was surprised that I came out of my basement. Anyway, no good morning after stories....but I'll keep you posted!

I have one mystery that the Internet can help me answer....this is the second guy I talked to who was back from Iraq for months, but had no job and didn't seem to care.....why??? 'Cause 'what do you do'? Is my go to pick up question...

Attention...

2007-02-10T16:34:00.000-05:00

I mentioned in this post that my biggest turnoff was being ignored....therefore lacking in appropriate attention.

My friends TXGambit and Trapppedintime have been discussing this. Maybe just poking a little fun, but I really spent some of my free mental time (when I wasn't solving world hunger and figuring out how to get the boys to stop picking their noses) about what attention means to me.

It is NOT to be the center of attention for the whole world. If that were true, I'd be off doing the Hollywood/American Idol thing. I do like a bit of recognition, else I wouldn't write this job, have a job in communications or do half the things I do. But balance, darling, I need my time out of the spotlight, too.

When I talk about it as a turnoff, I mean that in contrast to the turn on of someone being attracted and interested in me. The primary thing that attracts me to someone (aside from the usual requirements-- you know, not being an ax murderer and all) is seeing the sparkle in their eye when they look at me. Their interest in talking to me. While they place their hand on my arm to keep my attention-- and we all know how hard it is for me to pay attention!

I posted about my friend Buck Nekkid and how I was sure I wanted someone in my life that would bring me a fork before I even noticed I needed one. A metaphor for many things, but I think you know what I mean.

When he says he adores his wife, it isn't just lip service. We should all be blessed with someone who adores us, and brings us forks, and sparkles when we're with them. Sometimes they might leave the seat up, or snap at us, but the underlying current of adoration is what carries you through. Expressing that adoration and care is what a relationship is all about.

IT GOES BOTH WAYS! I mean, it isn't all about me. Folks who know me best know that I'm happiest when I'm doing something for someone else. So, especially when I'm feeling less than attended to, my need to serve goes up a few notches. If you're with me, and all the extra attention doesn't remind you to adore me, well then it's all gonna fall apart. Do unto others....I'll actually tell you about it, so you won't be surprised.

So to quote a movie (think it was Death of a Salesman with Dustin Hoffman) ATTENTION MUST BE PAID! Well, at least wouldn't it be nice if it was.

Tonight, I'm going with some friends to meet some other friends to see if we can make more friends. First we're getting together at the mutual friends' house to check wardrobe, makeup and ask 'does this make me look fat'? Once our egos are sufficiently fluffed, we will head to the the meat market with only one goal....getting someone's attention.

I'm pretty excited about that!

Hot Monkey Sex Friday

2007-02-09T07:27:00.000-05:00

None of the above for me, but I'm OK with that (no really...I've never been so OK with it. It is like a badge of courage to be without that nudge in PA on my mind and that I'm not desperately looking for my next one).

Now, children...if you've got 'em smoke 'em I always say. As my tribute to Hot Monkey Sex Friday....here is GMan's visual.....

Everyone should have a friend like GMAN.....of course, the cocktail was my idea!!!

MILF Check In

2007-02-09T07:24:00.000-05:00

Haven't lost an ounce. Pants still fit the same way. I started the week FANTASTIC having finally recovered from the 'I just started training' aches and pains. Terrific workouts Sunday, Monday and Tuesday.

Wednesday, woke up to a sore throat. By the afternoon, Streperella. I don't think I'll be working out tomorrow morning...maybe I'll go to the gym tomorrow night. Single. On a Friday night. No kids. And the best I can do is the gym....

I will survive!!

Streperella

2007-02-08T12:53:00.000-05:00

I have been called Cinderella, but my uncles who watched me help with the dishes after dinner.

I have been called Spamerella because my job requires LOTS of very public All Employee e-mails.

I am now officially, Streperella.

I have strep throat. Again. Surely because I didn't rest enough and drink enough water with the increased workout schedule.

It started Tuesday as a scratch in my throat. So I thought I'd drink more water to compensate. But I drank more water and skipped Wednesday's workout (even missed an opportunity to see Cute Gym Guy) only to feel worse by noon.

Off to the doctor, and the three hour ordeal of hurry up and wait that ended in YET ANOTHER prescription for Penicillin.

Lucky me. No workout again today, and probably not tomorrow. That just sucks. I was just starting to really enjoy this.

History for you....Karateboy and I traded strep constantly for the last two years until I finally agreed to have his tonsils out. They assured me that it was all him getting me sick.

I've had strep now twice since he had his tonsils out in March, so I'm not a believer.

Tippy has a red, swollen through, but he didn't wince when he swallowed his PopTart last night, so I'm going to pretend he's just fine. I just want to get on with gettin' on...you know? I always feel like I'm waiting for something I have no control over to do it's thing before I get to do what I want to do.

Meh. This sucks.

Meet Me In the Ladies Room!

2007-02-06T14:28:00.000-05:00

Oh MY GOD! This blog is the funniest, with two very funny contributors.....

http://overheardintheladiesroom.blogspot.com/

In honor, my own 10 questions....

Favorite article of clothing (to wear or take off) those shirts that are crossed in the front, and sort of baggy where the belly is??? accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative........... but I noticed something sensual today about taking off my swimsuit, my body all warm from the workout...and how fun it would be to crawl in bed with someone who is still asleep....

Fashion trend you would never be caught dead in? culottes, gauchos, jeans cuffed to the knee to show off your boots?...big baggy pants with no point, I say...do my legs need extra material??? really?

Most embarrassing date moment we were on a break...during you know...taking a breather between romps...when I noticed I'd...well...had a problem....sort off off my regular calendar....and no 'supplies'....I high tailed it home so fast, I think I broke his neck.

Name one celebrity that would be your perfect boyfriend? You mean OTHER than Larry Dobrow? Oh, he's not a celebrity? Google him and read something he's written, I guarantee you'll laugh. It's what he looks like that escapes me. For all I know he's 4 foot tall without arms, but he's damn funny. When I'm old, I want funny next to me.

What would you consider a guilty pleasure for you? Sex with someone I care about. I can't beat around the bush...technically, I'm at my **peak** you know...... :-). The severe lack of that in my life and the relative time available to make it happen make it even guiltier and more pleasurable (at least in my own mind)

Biggest turnoff? Being ignored. Nothing will get you off my good list faster than not paying homage to the queen...I'm just sayin....I AM the center of the universe, and if you want to enjoy all this I better know I'm the only girl on the planet.

Best date? Of course, I'm not counting pre-marital dates...but playing with his kids all day, met the very cool friends, then getting dolled up for dinner, then him feeding me a little bit and looking into my eyes....then some guilty pleasure...and laughing...total ease and comfort...yep, so far that was the best. Which leaves some room for improvement, don't you think?

What do you sleep in? I prefer naked, but with the kids, flannel jammies. I'd hate for them to wake up in the middle of the night and be whacked in the head by a boulder when I roll over. Plus jammies are warmer. And it was 9 degrees this morning. No point in being cute and sexy when only the neighbors will get a glimpse of it through the windows, ya know?

Favorite pair of shoes? Actually, I prefer none at all. Really, I know it's gross, but I don't like to wear shoes...but when forced to, I've got these little brown leather mules with a 2 inch heel that give me just enough height to make people think I'm at least 5'4"!! Plus, they're comfortable enough to chase down a 3 year old in the grocery store!

What do you like best about blogging (slight modification, since I'm partner less)? I like the support and the community. I like that so many people make me laugh and they're just as dirty and crass as I am and are still cool people....and that I'm OK here....people choose to interact with me here...

Please do your own, and we'll have a 10 questions love fest!! WOO HOO! and go read

http://overheardintheladiesroom.blogspot.com !! It's a riot!!

The Bee

2007-02-05T17:17:00.000-05:00

I think I've finally recovered from the shock and dismay of my son's first spelling bee. It was a week ago.

Yes, it is sad that I couldn't talk about it, until I'd totally processed it--- and I can't seem to get the video to load anywhere, 'cause it is hilarious!

Karateboy was chosen with 19 other 1st graders to compete in the spelling bee.

Not to put my dreams on him, but I'd always wanted to be in a spelling bee and win. I only had one chance, and I spelled helicopter wrong in the 2nd round and I'm scarred for life at that failure. So, I was hopeful for my boy!!

He spelled the first word LOUD and PROUD! The other kids whispered and were shy, but not my son! Face forward, he projected beautifully...I was so proud. "DID! D-I-D! DID!" was the first word.

Then the second came, and I was sure he'd make it. There were probably 15 other kids left.

The teacher said, "Please spell some. The children want some candy."

He said, "SUM! S-U-M! SUM!" He was so sure of himself! So proud. He spelled it right, but just the WRONG ONE! The whole crowd groaned! Surely they were pulling for this obviously, bright, handsome and vocal little Power Ranger!

But alas, he was out. I think he didn't realize what happened until he got his certificate and was asked to leave the stage. My little soldier didn't cry or throw a fit-- though I wanted to.

He instead grabbed the video camera and offered a video commentary of the rest of the students! It was a lot of fun, though I was still just aghast that we would be out....just like that.

Nah, I'm not competitive at all. Or at least I try not to show it. I will point out that his best buddy, whose parents are academics who seem to constantly compare the academic progress of both of our children (they also have a three year old)-- he wasn't in the bee......so we won on some pointless level, right?

Just kidding, though it did make me grin the next time I saw them!

The Truck

2007-02-04T13:19:00.000-05:00

I made it to the gym on time today...promptly for 7ish.

I did the whole cycling workout...my mountain bike ain't half bad.

Then it was time to run. 'Who wants to run outside in the 17 degree weather?' they asked.

ME !! OOOH ME!! 'Cause if I'm not already in enough pain, let me have MORE ooh and COLD TOO!

So, brave, stupid soul that I am gave it a try. The THIRD time in my whole life I've intentionally run. The 'runners' in the class were together like a pack of I don't know what but they were laughing and smiling and challenging each other. I was in the back, then I was lost in a cul-de-sac. I offered to go back to the gym so I didn't hold things up.

My trainer told me to only do half the workout. HALF! She tried to make me feel better because everybody must be good at something. She MUST have taught kindergarden in a past life.

I only did half and I feel like I got hit by a truck. Did you see the truck? Get the license plate number?

DO YOU SEE THE TIRE TRACKS ON MY FOREHEAD???

Meh.

2007-02-03T08:55:00.000-05:00

I started yesterday at a funeral, went to a church dinner and ended the evening at a bar.

The earlier parts of the day went swimmingly, when at the church thing, a friend says, "Hey! We should go get that DRINK!"

Well, when this particular older, more mature friend mentions, fun, you just jump on for the ride. She and I have a lot in common, and I often joke that I want to be her when I grow up. Six kids, fabulous husband and all.

So we arrive at the bar, when she runs into some of her single friends (who knew there were 'neighborhood' bars in Columbia) but we immediately spot someone who needs a ride home.

Long story short, my friend convinces this sweet 61 year old widow that since she's failed the standing at the bar sobriety test, that maybe we should take her to the two block to a condo.

I was so psyched to slide my aching ass into the molded (and heated!) leather seat of her powder blue Audi that I almost forgot I was miserable and tired and aching.

Back the the bar, the bartender mixed us GIANT DRINKS as a thank you for taking sweet lady home. Turns out my friend is quite popular amongst the nearly 50 crowd and there is constant hugging of others and 'when our kids were in scouts together' stories.

No eye candy in sight.

There was another half of the bar, where apparently the younger crowd hangs, but it was smokey and I was wearing my 3 sizes too big jeans and a not so attractive fleece sweatshirt, and I was a puffy mess from crying all day at the funeral. So I stayed with the wiser folk and quietly sipped my drink at the bar.

Lots of fun getting to know my friend better and laughing my ass off at our similarities. (Except she's a math teacher and once contended that numbers have GENDER).

I was also thinking about how Baltimore Guy would probably like this low key scene and how he'd be totally eye candy to these girls.

About 10ish, the wiser ladies called it a night and REPEATEDLY reminded me of the prompt 5PM arrival at said bar, EVERY Friday, except for Fridays with bowling....then they only drink 'till 6PM. It could give me something to do, keep me out of trouble, and yet with alcohol in my hands. Maybe they'll introduce me to their 26 year old sons-- who were all in scouts together. WAIT I'm feeling a costume coming on...... Because they understand the needs a single girl my age might have. (TEE HEE HEE!)

Meh. I should go to the gym and practice not drowning.

Hot Monkey Sex Friday

2007-02-02T07:06:00.000-05:00

Forget the groundhog! We got MONKEYS!! No hot, no sex...but monkeys!! It is my weekend with the kids.

(PEOPLE! I know you're distracted by my picture.That's marshmallow on my tongue! And I was in CHURCH! What were you thinking!!!??? HEATHENS!)

I think I took the same picture of Tippy minus the marshmello!

GMAN snapped this shot and we immediately agreed that it belonged in today's post. He's posting some of his other ideas....that I find truly hysterical...especially the Disney one.

My take this week on Hot Monkey Sex Friday isn't new....I encourage celebrations, even if it is a one man/woman party. I might celebrate with a good, vigorous swim. Or a run. But I'll be wearing a tight shirt and smiling at everyone while I do it. because being sexy (even if it is only in my own mind) is what today is all about.

At my age, I'm told it is not unusual to NEED some things a little differently than perhaps I had in the past. Something about approaching a peak. YOU MEAN I SPENT MY 20's SAYING NO??? And I'll spend my 30's NEEDING it? Some things just ain't fair.

As for the romantic life update, as hopeless as it has seemed, not one but two old chums from the online dating days have resurfaced. I was comfortable with hopeless because I had control over my world. I have every intent with becoming obsessed with triathlon training. Don't get me wrong, I'd planned to squeeze in the occasional happy hour, but only to catch up on work gossip and see who will buy me drinks.

I think I'm going to stay obsessed with training since I PAID for it. Baltimore guy actually wanted to swim with me tomorrow. I could really use the help. But I really couldn't use someone I'm dating seeing me stuffed into my Speedo. It ain't pretty.

Work has been too busy and my house is a mess! Happy Hot Monkey Sex Friday! Celebrate!

MILF Check In

2007-02-02T06:56:00.000-05:00

WHAT A WEEK! I haven't lost an ounce, but I worked out 6 times. The hardest part hasn't been running (like I expected) but learning to breathe when I swim.

I've been a swimmer my whole life, but never in a structured, competitive way. In a doggy paddle/swimming underwater sort of way. I THOUGHT I could swim freestyle, but mostly I hold my breath. I can do laps in my grandmother's pool, but in a real Olympic-sized pool, no. Apparently, I hold my breath and don't actually breath.

I learned that if you blow out as you come out of the water, you don't suck water back in, you don't choke.

I learned that when you're absolutely starving because your body just isn't used to these workouts--- I went face down in a HUGE bowl of spaghetti. It was GOOD.

I also ran all by myself. I'm way off the recommended 10 minutes per mile pace, more like 20 minutes per mile (that's 3 miles an hour!) but I'm working on it. Gotta build those lungs!

So no weight loss, but I'm learning skills and developing muscles. It is a very different path to MILFdom...I hope the girls don't kick me out...but I'm soo on my way to fitness!

I Want to be your Eggo

2007-02-01T08:48:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I totally blew off working out. Girly physical reasons-- I think I have a free pass for that.

But back in the mix today, I RAAAAN-- I ran so far awaaay! Well, not exactly away but definitely around the track many times. Not quite the distance yet I need for the race, but hey, I wasn't laying in bed, right??

I was soo pumped when I got home this morning. The boys were eating breakfast with me by 7AM, and the love fest ensued.

It was the typical making eyes at each other across the table and giggling sort of thing until Karateboy said, "I am your sweet wittle Eggo, mommy"

(Now, our typical breakfast is eggs, because I'm convinced a low sugar breakfast will help them behave better in school. I don't really know where the Eggo thought came from!)

Me, "Eggo?? As in a waffle?"

Karateboy, "Yes, Mommy, I am your sweet little Eggo." He proceeded to hug my arm and kiss my cheek.

Not to be out-done, Tippy chimed in, "I a waffle, too, mommy"

Yes, pumpkin, you are a waffle in so many ways!