It's about that time!

Christmas is just around the corner. And it's going to be a doozie for us this year! Just....a lot of "stuff" happening.

Vague. But trust me....Doozie!

So this will be my credo all week....

Deal with it family.

Personality test

I took a personality test tonight and this is what it says about me. If you know me in the real world. It's all true. I'm totally this amazing. Ha ha ha ha....

The Social Realist

Social Realists are popular persons full of energy. They are reliable, well organized and helpful. Traditional values are important to them. Founding a family also plays a central role in their life. Social Realists have a marked social streak.

They are always ready to listen to the worries and problems of others and spare no effort when they are asked for help. With empathy and understanding, they can sense what other people need. Social Realists are always willing to highly regard the strong points of the other person and to excuse that person’s weaknesses. They are the most sociable of all personality types. Social contacts are very important to them.

Social Realists find it very difficult to cope with conflicts and criticism - harmony is their elixir of life. Acknowledgement and esteem are very important to this type. Differentiation on the other hand is not necessarily one of their strong points. At work and in partnerships, they are loyal, committed and always there when needed. They find it easy to make friends due to their open, warm manner and they have a large circle of friends. In love, they are faithful and attentive and care for their partners with a great deal of imagination and sensitivity. Social Realists show their feelings openly and honestly. Should a relationship break up, they tend to blame themselves. That is why they find it very difficult to end a partnership even if it has not fulfilled their requirements for some time.


Social Realists are more conservative types. They have a set system of values and rules which is orientated to the prevailing traditions. They prefer clear, structured surroundings and work processes; they find too much change und unrest unpleasant. Their strong points are carefulness and reliability and not so much flexibility and spontaneity. Social Realists are open-minded towards anything new only to a limited extent. But, should one be looking for someone to fulfil a task reliably and exactly, they are the right persons.

Adjectives that describe your type
extroverted, practical, sentimental, planning, emotional, temperamental, energetic, tradition-conscious, loyal, helpful, devoted, reliable, caring, objective, thorough, organised, warm-hearted, open, friendly, sociable, chummy, obliging, self-sacrificing, public-spirited, sensitive, kind, demanding

They did however forget that I, apparently a Social Realist, don't really like to put up with shit for too long. There will ALWAYS be fallout from shit I don't put up with. It's messy and I hold a grudge.

Hiatus

I haven't been writing much. I didn't say anything about the big race. Not really. Or the start of school. Or Korean Camp. Or much else.

It's been a busy few months. I don't even know what's happening these days. My kids are changing so fast.

Miles wants to play foot ball next year. Ugh. He's dinky and those kids are taller and bigger than I am. And that's saying a lot.

Claire is the sassy same.

Well I haven't much to share right now. Sorry little sister Cindi.

I'll leave you with these...photo of my 40th Surprise party. Yep Ryan planned a suprise party along with sweet little sister Cindi. And the big race.

Me and my bestie at the party. We did duckface AND the Korean peace sign. Apparently it's a thing with the kids.

Also Ryan finishing his 103 miles. Miles ran the last 600 yards with him.  Can you believe my crazy husband? He looks amazing for just running 103 miles in 34.5 hours.

I'm alive!!!

Today I turn 40. Yep. The BIG 4-0!

At the tender age of 23 I was diagnosed with a rare form of liver disease. The doctor who diagnosed me said, "You'll be very lucky to make it to your 40th birthday."

Wah wah Waaaaahhhhhh.......*debbie downer*

I know right?

Well today I'm 40. I woke up with a bit of a stuffed nose, but nothing that's going to kill me. Literally.
So I say....

SUCK IT DR. PAYNE! Yay 40!!!

Eric

Today Ryan and lost a very good friend. He's been battling cancer for less than a year. A year ago he was at the apple orchard with us and our familes. Today he has passed away.

I'm completey heartbroken. He was an amazing friend. I'll miss him making fun of me. He was the only man I would allow to tease the way he did. I admired him. And we loved him.

Today is a very sad day.

12 Years means diamonds!

Ryan and I have been married for 12 years today. 12 years married 15 years together. Seriously. It's awesome.

Look how young we look. This was taken right after we got married. Like the day. Or the week. Something.

Now there's this.....

What the hell? I think I need diamonds now.

Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no!!!!!

I have so many cool things to talk about, like summer trips. Korean Camp. State Fair. Back to school. And so many adorable photos of my kids, cause let's face it, I have a problem with photographing them. But I can't even think about it.

The race is this weekend. We leave Thursday. Like...in 2 days Wait....ONE DAY!!! Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

I'm not ready. I'm freaking out. I wish I had run more, hiked more, eaten less, got my allergies under control, UGH!!!! 10 miles. It's only 10 miles. Over the roughest terrain of the whole of the 100 miles. So I've been told. Over and over again from my friend and neighbor Chuck. Who is also pacing Ryan.

They don't call this fucker the "SAW TOOTH" trail for nothing. See that big dip...that's NOT where I'll be. That's where Chuck's meeting up with Ryan. And then Chuck told me I will have the hardest part of the race.

Oh yeah....and no stress fracture. Just....pain. You should see the super-cool-out-of-this-world-awesome-you're-jealous-I-know-it-and-I-know-you-want-one-too leg brace I have to wear every day all day and at night when I'm not walking. It's pretty cool.

Jealous?

Pray for me. And Ryan...cause he's really the one who's doing all the work. But I'm lazy. So there's that.

My ass has OFFICIALLY been kicked

Well. Remember when I was all...I'm helping Ryan run!! Y'all..I'm so awesome at almost 40 running and shit.

Yeah. Not with that so much. Over the past few months as I've been training. I've been fighting major pain in my foot. Upon suggestion from my chiropractor. I stayed off it for 2 weeks and made and appointment with a orthopedic physician who specializes in foot and ankle injuries due to athletics.

Ha ha..I know right? Me....athletics. But whatever. She fit the bill. And the xray showed nothing. But she insists I have that stupid plantar faciitis. So cool. That's totally doable. And then she said..."I'm going to send you for an MRI because I think you have a stress fracture."

So at 6:45 this morning. I laid my tired ass into the MRI machine and it clicked and whirred for over an hour.  While listening to top 40 over Sirius radio, and during "Robin Thicke's Blurred Lines", I convinced myself that there was no way in hell I had any kind of fracture. Stress related or not. So I would be up and moving again right quick. Because you know after running, walking and all around trying to stay fit for over a year...sitting on my ass is not so great. But of course they NEVER tell you what's up with your body because THEY CAN'T. They're "only a technician".

But as I was walking back to get my stuff, the MRI tech said to me, "So how did you roll your ankle? Did it hurt when you broke it?"

Shit balls all fuck to hell god damnit fuck.

Maybe she's just really book-worm-with-glasses-cute-hipster-psychic who guessed that is what's up with my foot and ankle. Or she's seen so many broken feet/ankles she just knew. I'm hoping for psychic.

Either way. If shit is broken or "fractured" I'm out for assiting Ryan in his race. And this is how I'll convalese.

Because I'm going to look fabulous fat and laid up. Trust.

I'm done for sure now.

When you're the kind of person who covers their face and yells out "NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!" during a horror movie TRAILER, you probably shouldn't be someone who goes to see the movie.

Good advice. Right? Yeah. I should have taken it. My own advice no less. 

I used to be a horror movie freak! I loved them. I would watch them all the time. They didn't scare me. Just made me a little jumpy and laugh when it was over. And then after I saw The Ring, all bets were off.  I completely stopped seeing all horror movies of any type ever. I mean...it was so terrifying,  I would make Ryan walk me to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I would literally wake him up and tell him to walk me to the bathroom. And he did. For 2 weeks. So yeah, I just was done with them.

Jump to 11 years later, THIS gem of a movie comes out. I saw the trailer and realized...it was going to be just torture. But the actors are amazing. (I love anything Lily Taylor does) And it's based on a true story. TRUE STORY!!! So how could I pass it up? And it wasn't one of those blood and guts movies like the SAW movies or a shaky camera movie like Paranormal Activity. Cause I wouldn't have seen them in the first place. And in the second place I would throw up from the motion.

So I said to my bestie, " BESTIE, I think I want to see this movie. It looks creepy and scary and I might die, but let's see it!" I also showed the trailer to some friends who were over for dinner. And when the second trailer began playing, I screamed so loud I scared my friends. Ha ha ha..I'm THAT scary movie person.

So bestie said to me...."We're going to see this movie for my birthday." Bestie and I take each other out for movies and lunch for our birthdays. It's fun. And it's the best gift. But because this movie looked so scary we enlisted the assistance of our husbands too. Poor suckers.

Jump to the movie. We have our burgers and fries. We're getting settled in. Bestie and I in the middle...husbands flanking our sides. Ready...and FUCK! The trailer for Insidious 2 NOT COOL. I will not be seeing this one. 

Am I supposed to be so scared that I pee my pants BEFORE the movie even starts? I didn't think so. 

Well...the movie is terrifying. Like it says in all the reviews. So terrifying in fact, I am crying throughout the movie from laughing out of pure fear. (Yeah...I laugh when I'm scared.)

The thing about this movie that makes it terrifying is this.....they make you wait and anticipate the horrible thing that goes bump in the night. But they draw that shit out to an almost ridiculous length. I mean. Almost too much. AAAALLLLMOOOSSTTT..But it's really the perfect amount to make you almost shit yourself. There are very few shocking scenes. But there is one where I screamed so loud that Ryan turned to me and said, "Wow! That was really loud!" Whoops.

AND....at one point I turned to bestie and whispered....."WHY ARE WE HERE?!?!" We were huddled together with our hands over our faces. Our husbands provided little if NO comfort.

After the movie we went our separate ways. I went to the restroom where I overheard people talking about me and bestie. They said:

"Did you hear those two girls freaking out during the movie?"

"Yeah! They scared the shit out of me!"

"They made the movie way more fun and scary."

You're welcome girls who loved us.

And once home I made the kids sleep in our room on the floor with the door closed. Ryan thought I was ridiculous, but by the time we all decided to go to bed, Ryan had been drinking with the neighbor and he was good and liquored. So he had no say in who slept on our floor and how we all slept. Ha! Here are the texts that bestie and I were exchanging...there were more, but I think you'll get the gist.

He got me back though. At 3:37am his phone went *BING* as he received an email. It was so loud, it woke me from a semi deep sleep, (let's face it, I wasn't sleeping all that well) caused me to punch wildly in the dark night, and then promptly yell at Ryan for leaving his phone ON. I'm sure if there were any ghosts in there at the time, they witnessed my display and drifted off laughing at me. 

I can be hilarious in the middle of the night. 

Errrrr.....what?

This happened to me the other day.

ME: So,  I'm getting ready to run with Ryan in September and it's hard for me cause I never run.

FRIEND: How long is the run?

ME: 10 miles.

FRIEND: 10 Miles? That's nothing?! Why do you have to train for that? That's not even exercise.

ME: I have never run in my life. It's not easy and I'm almost 40. So I'm not having a good time with it. It's hard.

FRIEND: But SJT....it's not even a run for exercise. That's not a big deal at all. You should be able to do that. Just get up and run it! Geez?!

ME: You'd better shut up right about now, cause you're making me mad.

Yeah...so....yeah......not everyone gets it I guess.

Miles is in love

Today marks the very FIRST "get together" that Miles has had with a girl. She's adorable. She possesses everything I would want for my son to like in a girl. (Did that sentence make sense?) Weird.

Anyway. She's here. She's cute. And funny. And talks a ridiculous amount. She's the female version of MIles. I love it. She's been in class with Miles for the past two years. But as you know...girls are gross until they aren't anymore, and then well.....it's just awkward.

If you ask Miles about C, he'll smile his goofy smile, blush quite a bit, and tell you why he likes her. "Because she's smart, and funny and likes the same books that I do." Good enough reason for me. She's his first crush.

And when she came over today, they stood and smiled at each other for a good 10 minutes. It was super adorable. But really uncomfortable. And then out of nowhere, Miles said, "You're it! What do you want to do?"

I love it. They're going on a "friend date" in August to see the next Percy Jackson movie. I'm not sure about the label they're giving it. I said..."Hey, why not just going to see a movie?" No labels, no pressure, no me having an anxiety attack because they called it a "date" in any capacity at age 9. But they just looked at me like I was nuts. Cause I'm the mom and all moms are embarrassing freaks apparently.

Aren't they sweet? Ahhhh.....too fast I tell you.

Oy Vey

So...the other day I was running on the DREADmill with headphones on watching SAVAGES.  (I highly recommend it.) And I must have been breathing DEEP...and roaring, "OH-MY-GOD" *pant- pant-pant*-kill-me-now-please-sweet-death-take-me-fast-I-won't-make-it-leave-this-man-behind!!!!!

I was informed that after I made this declaration to our Lord, Miles was sitting on the floor behind a chair and said to me, "You can do it mom!!! You're doing a great job!"

Of course I didn't hear him what with the headphones and the dying, but Ryan did. And he told me about it.

I love my son. He's amazing. Too bad he has to hear me dying a slow self induced death. But man is he a great kid!

He understands my pain. Although he's a quick little bugger and has running endurance like his dad. *sigh*

Week 6 is torture.

This app that I'm using to run, has me run for 3 days rest for 4. I'm not doing that. If i sit for 4 days I'll stop. So in between I wait only one day. I'm on week 6. But technically have only been running for 3 weeks. I don't recommend it.

I had a leg cramp so bad last night from running, that it kept me up until 2 am. And I would have done something about it if I hadn't been so tired that I was delirious. And by delirious I mean, sitting on the sofa watching Love Actually for the millionth time while playing Candy Crush and Angry Birds Rio.

To be fair, I couldn't stand on my right leg. And going upstairs to bed seemed to be the wrong painful choice. So I stayed up until 2. Feeling sorry for myself. I think I made the right choice. My body....wanted me to fuck off. And is telling me so today.

Oh sweet Lord Baby Jesus I'm tired.

50K and counting

Ryan ran THIS again this year. And he did it with quite a bit of flair! He trained for months. And he did it. At the halfway point he told me and the kids he was "Great!" At the end, his quick pace wasn't as quick and I started to worry he'd been eaten by a bear. But he finished at 6 hours 45 minutes.

Amazing right?

Now he's training to run 100 MILES in September. OMG. It's ridiculous. 100 miles is so far. And so long.

He has 38 hours to complete it. He's asked a few friends who run AND can navigate the wilderness to run with him. One friend in particular is in the military and can navigate in the dark. Thank god because I can't do that. And when Ryan asked me to help him at night, (yes they run all night) I said, "But what if you want to actually RUN and you have to leave me in the woods. Alone. In the Dark. With wild animals.?" They would totally find me the next day with my face eaten off by something. I know it. And so he's asked me to help him with the last 10 miles. Which occur in the early evening. Ha ha..smart man.

I asked him. "How do I help you?" He said, "You run with me."

Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...ha ha ha...me....running....ha ha ha ha..I mean I'll run if my life depends on it, and even then I most likely will just drop to the fetal position and pray that sweet death comes swiftly and without much pain.

But I love my crazy running fool of a husband. So I've been running. Well...I've been "training" to run. Like the couch to 10K app on my phone. And by couch it means....I sit on the couch all the live long day eating chips and what not. And then in 3 short months I should be able to run a 10k. Oh no? That's not how it works? Oh.

I've been bitching and moaning like mad about the "training" I've been doing because let's face it. I don't run and I'm almost 40. And starting to run at 40 is just stupid if there's not a good reason. But Ryan listens to it patiently. He understands that it's hard for me, but that I'm doing it out of pure love and support to him. And then he says, "I just ask that all the bitching and moaning doesn't happen on the run. Cause it won't help." Point taken sir. Point.Taken.

Either way. I'll be huffing and puffing along side my poor husband, who at the point that he meets me, will have most likely run 90 miles straight through the Superior Forest, on a tiny deer trail, up and down peaks and mountains, for many hours straight, no sleeping.

Here are a few photos of the weekend of the 50K. I had several kids with me. Our neighbor runs and I had his daughter and Miles brought his best friend J. It rained the whole time so we spent a lot of time in the pool and sauna.

Ryan at the mid way point. Looking pretty good.

 Heading off to the peak of the race

 Ryan finishing the race 6 hours 45 minutes

 Chicken fights after the race. I can't believe he's standing.

Claire and Ryan won the chicken fights!

Our neighbor after the race. He's not participating in the chicken fights, or looking thrilled about having his photo taken.

The kids loved the sauna. Not sure what J is doing.

Two things

I hate opening canned rolls. HATE.IT!

I avoided buying them for ever.  And then Ryan went all No Partially Hydrogenated Oils about 14 years ago. (They're riddled with them) So I dodged that bullet again.

Sadly Claire went to a friend's house about a year ago and they had crescent rolls with dinner. Thus began her obsession with them. I held her off as long as I could. Or as long as she couldn't read. Then she found them at Trader Joe's and read that there were NO PHO's in them. *sigh*

I bought them. I do believe this is going to happen everytime I open them though.

I will literally hand them to Ryan, then run from the room with my ears plugged. Not shitting you. But one night before dinner, Ryan was working late and I had no alternative planned. I panicked. I mean...really kinda got the flop sweats about it. I sat them on the counter. Looked at them. And touched the can. Nope they didn't explode with my touch. But I knew they were just waiting. Then all of the sudden, Claire came. Ripped it open. Set them in front of me and said, "See mom! I can do it!" And Voila! Easy Peasy!

Now THIS is how I open the rolls.

And then there's this. 

My girlfriend posted this on my facebook wall. She thinks I'm crazy because I can and actually HAVE to fold the fitted sheet to match the flat sheet and pillow cases. They have to be a perfect rectangle. All the same size people. (Remember? I have a touch of the OCD. Check out number 22.)

Ryan on the other hand, rolls it into a ball. I watched him do it last night. I almost had an aneurysm. He just said, "Don't worry about it." And it magically disappeared. I have no idea where he put those sheets. But when I find them. They WILL BE PERFECT!

Cancer sucks.

I'm so heartbroken today. Today I've learned that a very good friend of mine is dying.
He's sick, and there's nothing they can do about it. He has very little time.

His wife is devastated. His kids are young. I can't stop crying. I don't even know what to do or say.
Ryan and I love this family so much. Our kids grew up together.

I'm just heartbroken.

There's no crying at breakfast!

I'm the worst mom ever. In the land of ever in the whole of the world. Nay...the universe.

The scene:
Ryan, Miles, and Claire swaying side to side in unison, at the breakfast table, with their arms in the air, to Rocket Man, as if they WERE are the Elton John concert.

Then they start to peer pressure ME into doing it. I will not. I'm not in the mood. I start to joke about how, "no way am I doing that. Thanks for asking but no. You guys are totally weird!" I go so far as to do the wide eyed eye roll. You know the one. The one that says, "Wow! Just wow!"

And then they start REALLY getting into it. I mean....I think Claire's eyes were closed and all.

Then I said, "You guys are so weird, I'm going on the internet to find a new family." TOTALLY JOKING BTW.

And Claire stopped. Cold in her tracks. Put her arms down. Stared at me with wide eyes. Then in a split second started to cry.

*gulp* Whoopsie daisies.


(To be fair, this is a photo from when she was 1. But she has the same face when she cries. It's really upset and sad, and says, "WHY?!?!?!?!"  We used to call her the piranha because she had such a huge underbite and those two teeth only.)

Poor baby. She really thought I was going to do it.

Guess I have to do the stupid family arm sway at breakfast.

We are SOOOOO going to be famous!

My kids were chosen to be in the Children's Theater Company's 2013-2014 brochure and catalogs. They were both so excited, they went around the house for days exclaiming they were going to be famous.

Claire had done a photo shoot once before when she was 3. She did a handbag campaign for a friend of mine. My girlfriend owns the handbag company. It's called BCDesigns. She's a real talented lady. I adore her. And I covet her bags.

It took a while to get Claire "in the mood". But me falling over the photographer's gear cracked her up enough to get this shot.

But as we left, she said, "I hated that. I don't like how everyone was tellin' me what to do!"

Anyway. Cut to 3 years later. And my kids are dancing around blah blah blahing about fame. Kardashian's look out.

We get to the shoot and it's NO JOKE. Make up. Hair. Clothing/Costumes. With a really amazeballs photographer. From what we saw of his portfolio and the stuff on the walls he's a big deal. Claire is in a photo with another little guy and Miles is all alone.

I'm not sure if I can say what they did in the photos, because the ads aren't out yet. But I imagine it's going to be pretty rad. Hopefully I'll get a copy to post.

Needless to say, they kids were amazing. They were well behaved and had fun. It was several hours later and they were chatting about riches and fame....then Claire fell asleep in the car on the way home and once home, they had to clean their rooms.

Nothing like bringing them back to reality before school the next day. But for a moment. They were "famous."

No shit.

I read THIS story today. I mean...Jesus. 99 out of 100 women and probably some men would agree.

And in other news water is wet.

I can never make her happy

Well I changed my blog layout again. I do it from time to time. There was a period of time where I changed it just about every day. It drove my sister Cindi nuts. Ha ha ... she's such a little turd.

So I changed it again the other day. Cindi doesn't like it.

She made a point to tell me she didn't like it. I mean......totally rude. Right? Often she emails, texts, phones me to yell about me not blogging. Then when I do, I get this email from her.

I thought my response was pretty funny. She didn't respond after that. Ha. I love that girl.

Gone are the days.........

You probably don't remember this. I sure don't. But I bet my mom does. And I KNOW my grandmother would. The days of dressing to go anywhere.

Mad Men is coming on again this weekend. And let me tell you. It's fancy dressing all the time.  Even their leisure wear is fancy. 

I was at the market today. I had run there right after I brought the kids to school. And before I planned to work out. I was certainly NOT the only woman in the store wearing yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and running shoes. (Let me be clear though, I don't run. But I hate the term TENNIS shoes. Cause I don't play tennis either.)  It seems to be the outfit of choice when shopping for food at 8:30am in suburban MN.

But it got me thinking. I remember, people talked about getting "Dressed" for things. Like running to the market. To the corner store. Or out to dinner. I do none of that. I'm lucky if my jeans are clean and I've showered. 

Sure. I'm lazy. I could try harder. But I just said I'm lazy. And I never go places that warrant a fancy set of duds. I go places like Super Target, Trader Joe's, Costco. I rarely go out to dinner. And when I do, it's Wendy's night for school or pizza at the local pizza place. See...heels and a brocade dress wouldn't work. 

I want to wear clothes like in the photo above. I want to look stylish and retro and cool and chic. I haven't worn a dress since....well......hmmmm.....I can't even remember. But it's been a long time. The fanciest thing I do is get my hair cut every 6 months or so, and go to the chiropractor. 

Don't get me wrong. I love my life. It's full. And fun. But it really lacks in the glamour department. Anyone who knows me is saying....."SJT...you are not that fancy." I mean...I want to be. Maybe I'll make a change. 

Or maybe I'll just go to the Gap and get another pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Miles is a cool MoFo

I love the 90's pandora station. I listen to it when I cook. It makes me happy. Apparently it makes Miles super happy too. He was a dancin' fool.



Seriously. He's not a huge music person, but he couldn't keep his little butt still. I love him so much for this. He makes me proud. Ha ha......

Just gross

So today I was getting dressed, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Not cool man.

It's said that mirrors add poundage. I'm going with that assessment. As I also go with the "camera adds 10 pounds" rule. Although mine seems to be added to MY FACE, and my face alone.

But whatever. I actually said, to myself, outloud..... "OH MY GOD GROSS".

For Easter this year, my cousin brought his new girlfriend to dinner. She's this cute, adorable Korean adoptee. She's young. Cute. Tiny. Awesomely nice. And did I mention cute and tiny?

I told my sister that she's going to make the two of us (my sister and me) look like heifers. I wasn't kidding either. That girl must have weighed like.....100 pounds. I hate her. Well. Not really cause she's cool as hell, but damn if I didn't see myself today in the mirror and think, GOOD GOD THAT'S TOO BAD FATTY.

Fuck.

Parking Lot from Hell!

Well. I have been spoiled having Ryan take the kids to school for the past year. I mean SPOILED!

He's back working far from home and leaves at 6:30 every morning. So I take the kids in.

I said this once. And now I take it all back. I DO go up there at 2:10. I DO sit in the parking lot waiting for my kids. I DO read. I  DO fucking look out the window, because I DON'T have anything better to do. And as a matter of fact, I HATE walking up to the school in the dead of winter to get my kids. My kids don't like it either. And let me tell you. If you're not there before 2:15, you're walking 3 blocks to get to the school from the street. It's laid out that stupid. But I digress.

I have noticed, and this is no joke, that people are out of their damn minds in this parking lot. They will cut you off without any hesitation. Because I'm pretty sure they have better places to go than I do.  They double park because they didn't get there early enough and it's too cold for them to park down the street and walk up. So they block you from leaving. I'm always hoping my kids get out AFTER their kids do so I can actually leave instead of WAIT. FOREVER.
Here. I've drawn a picture so you have a better idea of what I'm dealing with.

Notice the jankety parking job that some do? It's no joke. I'm really being quite nice about it too.

But this is nothing compared to the morning rush. It's seriously, hell. Like icy cold center core of hell, hell. Clearly people are in a hurry. Cutting me off and stuff. And I get that. But seriously, this other type of parent is the WORST. Sitting in the drive through lane because you want to watch-little-Sally-walk-in-oh-isn't-she-adorable-whoops-she-dropped-her-mitten-I-should-wait-to-see-if-she-got-it-oh-yep-she-did-oh-there-she-goes-into-school-down-the-hall-and-into-class. Oh.My.Fucking.God. I actually have lost my voice yelling in the parking lot at these idiots. I think that's where my vein ripping out of my neck fantasies enter my brain.

I've seen parents almost hit kids crossing the drive through area because they were too busy speeding out of their spot, or talking to another parent in tandem car driving in a single lane. (That one's my favorite. Can't be stupider than that.) But through all of this idiotic driving, and parking and waiting. One thing that disappoints me the very most, all the drivers I see doing really stupid shit are Asian. Like, eyes-peeping-over-the-steering-wheel-steering-wheel-in-their-chest Asian.

I'm not trying to be a racist. Cause hell, I'm Korean myself. But holy crap! They don't say Asian drivers are the worst for no reason. I mean. I have consciously, my entire driving career, tried to NOT be that driver. I sit further from the steering wheel. I sit higher in my seat. I make sure I'm smart about driving. I really try to pay attention to my surroundings. But sweet Jesus. I get it. That stereotype was manifested in the parking lot of South Washington County Schools. I know it makes me sound awful, but I'm pretty sure after you dealt with this for 4 years, you'd feel just about the same. I'm trying to be better about it though. I only give them the thumbs down when they almost hit my kid because they want my parking spot before my kid even gets in the car, instead of running out to their car with a baseball bat. Cause that's an idea that's crossed my mind a time or two.

Meanest.Mom.Ever

That's me.

After 30 minutes of playing with the kids this morning, I took them to school. Our morning was fun. We laughed. We joked. We had a really enjoyable morning together.

Then as I pulled into the parking lot of school I hear, "Oh no mom. My math homework isn't in my folder."

I said to dear sweet Miles, "That's too bad. You'll have to tell your teacher you'll bring it tomorrow."

And then the tears started rolling.

I mean shit. I'm mean. I could have turned around and got it. We live only a mile from the school. But it's the principle of it. He had ample time to collect his belongings. I even recall saying, "Get your backpacks ready!"

And last year this was a major problem. I can't tell you how many times I went back to school to pick up homework he forgot or back home to get homework he had to turn in. It was a lot. So much so, that this morning I wasn't willing to turn around.

He was devastated. I feel bad. And a bit guilty. But damnit! I won't be there for him when he's older. He should learn the hard lessons now. Right?

Shit. I'm totally going to bring him his stupid math worksheet. Argh!!!!

Oh youth

Thompson Twins - King For A Day by jpdc11

I love this song. I love this song a lot. I love everything about it. The hair. The look. The sound. The feeling it gives me. It reminds me of my 6th grade boyfriend. It reminds me of Esprit clothes and Aquanet hairspray.

And that's about it. I heard it today. Out of nowhere. And I loved it.

YIIIPPEEDEEEDOOODAAAAAH!

It's a snow day here in Minnesota. I mean...SNOW. I mean I can't find a map to show you, but rest assured it's a shit ton of snow. Not Halloween blizzard of 91 snow, but it's a lot.

Well, of course after months of moaning and groaning about having to "get up" for school. I mean, bitching and moaning, and using every fucking excuse in the book complaining, we have a snow day. AND to add insult to injury, both kids were up at the regular time happy as pigs in shit. And when they found out about no school, there was no going back to bed for the SAHM.

About 9 inches of snow fell last night. It's not bad. And it's continuing to snow, but unlike much of the US, we keep plugging along. I honestly was surprised when I found out school was closed. It never closes. EVER. But today it has. And they are so happy about it.

We plan on going outside all day. Eat junk food and watch tv when it gets too cold and the kids' little Korean faces turn beet red. Sledding is out as the snow is fluffy and will blind you the minute you try to go down the ice packed hill under all this fluffy stuff.

I'm not one of those parents who thinks, free day at home means study like you're in school. I hate those types of parents. Remember when YOU were a kid. Did you want to study? Fuck no.

You wanted to eat junk food watch tv and go out to play with the neighborhood kids until you got so cold you were convinced you had frostbite and would have to have toes and noses amputated and people would come to see you in the hospital and bring flowers and balloons and think, "Awwww poor SJT she was so awesome." But it didn't happen because you got some hot cocoa and all was right with the world.

So...yeah. I'm a SAHM who can let my kids have fun today. And Claire tap danced for me after yelling about being so happy it's a snow day.

Here's a quick shot of my neighborhood. I love Minnesota snow.

Free concert Sunday!

I watched the 2013 Grammy's last night. Pretty good. I mean. I can't tell you who won anything, because the show is a huge fucking concert with all kinds of artists singing with all kinds of other artists.

I love the Grammy's. And apparently so does Taylor Swift. That girl LOVES her some music. Like she's just a teenage fangirl of every artist who sings.

I should mention that Kelly Clarkson may not be my favorite singer, but OMG that lady can blow!


Also, I feel bad for the Lumineers. They have a great song out now. And it will probably be their one and only time performing at the Grammy's unless they really do something amazing in the next year or so. But those poor schmucks had to go on RIGHT after this shit:


Not cool Grammy's. NOT COOL. I mean...holy balls. This performance was AHHHHH-mazing. But I would think it should have gone at the end. Because....you just can't follow that. Although I could have done without Rhianna. I don't like her. I think she's stupid. As a person. I could care less about her music. I mean my favorite tweet regarding the Grammy's was brought to you by Richard Marx. Yes that Richard Marx.

"Risque" clothing banned at Grammys but guys who beat up women? Come ooonnn downnnnn.....#goodcallgrammys
— Richard Marx (@richardmarx) February 7, 2013

And in closing. I love that Lena Dunham is dating that dude from Fun. She's so cute I can't stand it. Oh and...Justin Timberlake wants to be Bruno Mars, but he will never be. And I love Prince. Anytime. All the time.

The Jerry O'Connell Syndrome!

You guys! Seriously!!!! Today I saw THIS movie. It was awesome.

My girlfriend and I planned to see it like months ago. I love all things Zombie. (In case you didn't know.) And so does she.

The movie is touted as a "Zombie Rom Com". It is. But it's also pretty funny. I really really liked it. So.....yeah.

Go see it! You'll be happy you did. Super cute. And super funny. And really? John Malkovich is in it. He's AHHH-MAH-zing anytime.

And...... I have a new movie boyfriend. (I get them from time to time) He's young. But that's ok. I think he's adorable. And that's all that matters.
Ryan's cool with it. Pretty much every time I tell him I have a new movie boyfriend he laughs and smiles. He's a good man that way.

My new movie boyfriend has what I call....... The "Jerry O'Connell syndrome". Cute little kid grows into a very handsome adult. It was like when I saw a photo of Neville Longbottom from Harry Potter as a grown up. WHAT THE WHAT?!?! Seriously.

Neville Longbottom!!!

This is my movie boyfriend. Before and after. See what I'm talking about?

So....go and see this movie. You'll like it. If not. It's not my fault you have bad taste in movies. And hate puppies and rainbows.

Happy Happy Happy

Even though my life has been stressful as fuck since, oh I don't know, forever.....I'm happy as can be right now.

I'm happy about pretty much everything. I like the weather. It's been cold. Below zero cold. Snowy. But I like it.

My kids are driving me crazy. It seems the happier I am, the shittier they are. What's THAT all about? Claire pouts about homework. Miles cries in the morning because he, "didn't sleep that well" and I won't let him stay home. (I'm such a monster).

But I wake happy as a clam every morning and it lasts throughout the day

Maybe it's the extra vitamin D I've been taking. Maybe it's the daily exercise I've been doing since spring 2012. Maybe it's early Alzheimers, and I don't even remember I should be stressed and crabby. Maybe Ryan's steeping weed in my morning tea. Whatever it is, I'll take it.

I like things and life right now.
To be fair though, I should probably do regular "happiness" checks to make sure my level of happy stays like

THIS:

and not drift into

THIS:

It's a fine line people. A very fine line.

Help!

This morning Claire said to me, "The tops of my legs are HUGE!" Then she looked at herself from the side, and smoothed her shirt down to show her non existant stomach. Then sighed and went back to watching tv.

What.The.Fuck.

She's 6. I complain about my size. I know I do. But I have made a very conscious effort to NOT talk about weight and size around my kids. Ever. When I see things on tv talking about size and weight or some girl complaining about her size, I say, "You know it only matters if you're healthy. NOT skinny!. Skinny ISN'T healthy all the time."

She gets that. But how do I keep the comparisons away? How do I encourage her to not worry about it. I mean...we are a fairly fit family. Ryan runs like a fool. I walk everyday and sometimes when the mood strikes I'll run for a minute or two. But I exercise. We eat pretty healthily. I let my kids eat snacks and junkfood once in a while. Cause Lord knows I love my McDonald's. It's a curse really. But I don't NOT ALLOW that stuff. I never diet. Ever. And I never talk about diets either. I don't exercise to lose weight. I exercise to not get fat. Because you know, I'm not dieting ever.

When I was a kid, my parents taught me to be a "member of the clean plate club". Which led to overeating. My parents never allowed us to have junkfood or go to fast food places. Partly because of money, but mostly because they only celebrated things with food. Good grades? Out to eat. Birthday? Out to eat. Having a bad day and need a treat? Out to eat. Everything good or comforting was treated with food. And when I was out on my own, you bet your sweet ass I ate whatever the hell I wanted too.

With my first marriage my ex was a fitness freak. He didn't LET me eat anything with fat. I mean I was eating fat free for 3 years. I did NOT like that. At all. Ever. I mean shit. I cried once, really and truly cried my eyes out in happiness, because he told me I could have a McDonald's hamburger. A plain old little hamburger. No fries, no mayo, (I LOVE MAYO), just a plain little 88 cent burger. His brother begged him for us to go. I loved his brother for that. But then had to work out for 3 hours the next day to "burn off the burger.". My ex would tell me everyday "I don't want a fat wife!"

When I'd go home for a visit, my mom would say, "SJT I have to show you something in the basement." And I'd follow her down and she'd shove a cookie or two in my mouth. 

After my divorce I went fast food crazy. I think it's a diagnosable illness. Or it should have been. I must have gained 20 pounds post divorce. 20 happy/PTSD induced pounds.

My parents are both obese. They are. And my kids know it. They understand it. But we don't talk about how "fat" they are. We talk about how unhealthy they are. It's all about the verbage I guess. But is that really working? I try to do just about the complete opposite of my parents when it comes to food and my kids. My dad HATES it when I tell the kids they don't "have to finish all their food." He will literally tell them yes they do. And then we battle. But I usually win out. 

So yes, I have issues with food and fitness. I just do. But I'm trying my best to not have my kids be prisoners of food and weight. But how do I keep it from happening? I'm worried. 

The flu

She's a cruel cruel bitch.

Because I was fever ridden, and apparently delirious, I ended up watching THIS show. With Ryan no less. (I'd blame him but he's sick too)

I don't know what to say. All I can do is apologize to my brain. Sorry Brain. I made you a bit dumber last night. I can't make up for it, because I have a few shows on DVR that may or may not constitute you just shutting down completely. Don't do it. I've got stuff to do when I get better.