When they get older, you get sleep.

When my kids were little, I'd wake up very early and gently wake them for school. I'd rouse them from their slumber with a hot breakfast. Eggs, homemade pancakes, bacon, sausage..all of that delicious food usually saved for the weekends. I'd pack their lunches as they sleepily pulled on their clothes that I had lovingly laid out the night before. We'd talk about what they had going on that day over orange juice and cartoons. Then I'd get them on their way, backpacks on their backs, full of homework I'd help them complete the night before during snack time. I'd drive them to the front door of the elementary school and wave good bye with many "I love yous and have a great day."

Jump ahead several years and both of my kids are in middle school. The girl dresses for school the night before so she doesn't have to "be cold getting dressed in the morning". She wakes at 5:45 to do her hair AND makeup. Yep. MAKEUP. The boy wakes at 6 because when he woke at 6:30 it didn't work for him to take the dog out AND eat breakfast. Breakfast consists of frozen waffles or a piece of toast. And when I finally wake up at 7, I yell at them to make sure they eat a piece of fruit and take their vitamins. Then we rush out the door at 7:20 to do the carpool. The girl usually forgets to pack her lunch until the very last minute, and forgets or misplaces her phone so we all run back into the house to help her locate it. But I drive them to the front door of the middle school and I get "love you mom! Have a good day" from them.

What was my point you ask? When my kids got to middle school I figured it was time for them to do things on their own. And that my friends, has worked out AMAZING for me! I get to sleep! Winner!!!! And apparently they still love me and don't ask why I don't do anything for them in the mornings anymore.

Sometimes just being there is enough

Yesterday I brought my friend to her chemo appointment at the Mayo clinic. It's easy for me to bring her because I go there for my own brand of poking and prodding. I know my way around and I can just take control of where we're going and she doesn't have to think.

I love my friend. She's a neighbor, and a wonderful woman. Her kids are my kids' friends. Our husbands are friends. We're close. Very close. And she's had lymphoma for 12 years.

Now...I want to be clear that I'm not looking to be told I'm "such a good friend." Blah blah. It's stupid. I take her because I love her. We spend all day there. From 8am to 1am. We laugh, nap, talk, watch bad movies, eat bad food and just be. I try to make chemo as fun as it can be. And let me tell you, it's not that fun. We joke with the nurses. They remember us. Boy oh boy do they remember us. They come in and say, "OH! You two are back!" I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. But hey, they laugh with us so....win?

But last night was a bummer. She got sick to her stomach for the first time on this chemo med. It really sucked. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there in the parking ramp at 11PM, in below 0 weather, telling her to breath deep. Our friend M was with us too. She had the mints ready. But...it was sucky to have that happen. In the almost 14 times I've taken her to chemo, that has never happened. And it freaked my friend out. She cried. And then I cried. And then we got our shit together and I drove us home the hour and a half.

I hate cancer. Cancer took one of my dearest friends a few years back. He was an amazing friend, father, husband, man. And I see his wife and kids on the regular, and it still breaks my heart. His wife and I often end up cry/laughing. Crying because it's sad, laughing because we usually end up crying in public places and so we laugh because we KNOW we look ridiculous! It's what we do. Because just being there for her, and listening to her, and letting her know I feel the loss still too, is kind of what is needed sometimes. And I feel the loss. I can't stop myself from tearing up as I even type this. He was my friend.

So yeah. My friend/neighbor has cancer and I took her to chemo. And I'm sad about having to do it. But she's still alive. And I'm thankful for that. Basically this post is about how I hate cancer. Cancer sucks.

Oh boy!

Yikes! It's been so long since I've updated this blog I was worried it would have vanished off the face of the earth.

But alas. It's still here. Trusty ole Google.

Things have been BUSY here at Casa De Teepants. Vacations. Sports. (yep you read that right. Sports) New jobs. Old jobs. And all about the kids.

I need a break for sure. Like a vacation that doesn't involve me cooking for a billion people, or worrying about who's doing what where when and how. I did go on an amazing trip with my girlfriend in late February 2015. We went to NYC. To see Alan Cumming reprise his roll as the emcee in Cabaret. (It's been a dream of mine to see this since he first did it in 1991. Yeah. I know... a HS student wanting to see some random dude in a play?) Yep. And 40+ year old me loved every second of it.

I would most likely go back to NY. It was a whirlwind vacay. 3 days. In. Out. Done. Back home to reality.

Spent an amazing summer vacation with my family. My entire family. We went to the North Shore of MN for a week. It was fantastic. But.....yeah I cooked for a billion people. But it was worth it.

This summer is almost over. Already! And my days have been filled with neighborhood kids, my kid's friends and more kids. I don't even know where some of them came from. But they're here. All the time. I never have just my family. Last week we had one of Miles' friends stay the entire week. Just because. I don't know. I just feed them, clean up after them, and take them where they all need to go when they need to get there.

Claire has been tennis bound. She loves Tennis. She plays tennis with our rival Atheltic Association. But she also has taught herself soccer ball tricks, as well as gymnastics. But she won't do either of those sports because, she doesn't like to run all that much, and she doesn't want people staring at just her. I get it. She's also taking a rock climbing course this summer with a friend of hers. She loves anything that puts her body at risk.

Miles has begun Tae Kwon Do lessons. 4 days a week. Yep. 4. We're at the TKD studio all the time. I live there. Friday nights he's practically there for 3 hours.  But he's loving it. He never complains about going.

Ryan got a promotion. He's managing people now. And his company merged with another company so there's a billion changes. But whatever. He travels so minimally now and usually works from home.

I'm working very part time at my friend's chiropractic clinic. She's a small business owner who needs occasional help with billing. So it gets me out. I make a bit of money. It's nice. I also ran my own rail race. 25K. Yep. Ran it in less than 5 hours. So yay me! It was the same race Ryan's been running. And now I am super done running.

I don't have much else to report. Thats it. It's like a Christmas letter in July. I'm going to try to keep up with this thing. For me. It's nice to look back and see what's been going on with my family. This way I hopefully won't forget EVERYTHING that's happened in my world.

HAL here we come!

Ryan has decided to fully automate our house. I mean....I thought getting a Roomba was a big deal. But no. He's got cameras up. Door locks. Lights controlled by our phones. Garage door sensor. Water sensor. Wall sensor (don't ask).

I swear. If a light goes on in the middle of the night because of the "fully automated house" I'm moving.

If the door unlocks and a mass murderer gets in and kills us and takes the kids for their own amusement, I'm moving.

If the sensor for the garage door goes off and scares the shit out of me I'm moving.

Now Ryan's talking about putting the fireplaces on a remote control. I didn't know I married a swinging bachelor. Brother.

I'm holding out hope though. I can only dream of my sitting around watching my stories with my robot maid.

The ghost that lives in my foyer.

Years ago, my best friend was sitting on my basement sofa and was looking into my foyer. She announced she was not digging the old lady who was staring at her from the foyer. Now I don't remember if dear bestie was loaded, or just totally fucking with me. But needless to say I poo poo'd it.

Skip ahead a few years and I was walking down the stairs from the upstairs to the foyer, and on the second to last step it felt like someone pulled my foot from underneath me. And I fell to the tile floor cracking my forearm and back on the hardwood steps. Ouchie. For sure. I wrote it off as me being clumsy. But still that "old lady" was in the back of my mind. Because it FELT like someone grabbed my ankle and pulled.

And then nothing for almost a year.

But last night. I was in the foyer. Looking out the front door to see the storm, (it was a whopper), and I turned to tell Ryan, who was sitting in the basement. I took one step down and......WHOOOOSH!

It felt like someone pushed me, like literally pushed me down the stairs.

I was spread eagle. Laying flat on the carpeted stairs from the top to the bottom. Flailing my arms above my head. Hitting my head, back and butt all the way down.

When I landed I was bawling. Like crying so hard I started laughing. I just imagined what I looked like to Ryan. He rushed over to see if I was ok. And all I could do was roll around laugh crying and wailing about "OH MY ARM! OH MY ASS! OH MY HEAD! WAAAAHHHH HA HA HA WAHHHHHHH!!!"

After I was able to get myself together I asked him. "Did it look hilarious?" He said "yeah it was funny except for the falling down the stairs part."

Stupid ass ghost living in my foyer. And so now I can't work out because I can hardly walk let alone run. Ugh! I'm old. Crippled. And apparently haunted.

Summer time!

I know I know...Whatever, school got away from me. Then the summer has taken me away. And well...yeah.

I'm currently in Omaha Nebraska. Sitting in a hotel room while the kids play on their ipods. Then pretty soon we'll go to the hotel pool.  We were just at an art museum. It was culture. And it killed time. We're here because Ryan's working here. And we just tagged along.

Last week we were in Los Angeles visiting my sister. It was warm and beautiful. I have photos, but I don't have them up. The kids loved Disneyland, and the ocean. We swam in Santa Monica beach for hours. And got a good ol' tan.

After we get home from Nebraska, we go to Ely to a cabin with some friends. OMG. I'm travel tired already!

I need a vacation from my vacations. I actually miss cooking. And eating home cooking. I mean I love going out to eat. But not for three meals a day for 3 weeks straight. It's gross. And boring.

So it's time to swim. Again. OMG.....Help.

Oh My Grapes

As Claire says for OMG.

I've been watching True Tori. And OMG...it's a train wreck. The quick rundown is that Tori Spelling's husband Dean McDermott cheated on her, had a breakdown because he got caught, and is in rehab for the past 3 months.  And the "reality" show is her "true sTori". Gross. Get it?

I can't stop watching it. The man is such a victim. And such an awful actor. And holy shit does Tori Spelling seem like a lifeless robot.

I don't know how I'd react to my husband cheating on me, but I can guarantee it wouldn't be played out on the Lifetime network.

The part that bugs me the WORST.....her reaction to the paparazzi. She claims to hate it, and feels like they intrude.  But as she's schlepping her kids from here to there, those poor kids are freaking out at the people behind the cameras. Yelling at them to stop. And crying about them being followed.  But she's doing a show. On tv. Being filmed. And wanting the attention. I don't get it.

She complains about the paparazzi, yet she has her own reality show where a camera is in her face 24/7. And the stuff they're sharing..ugh. He wanted to commit suicide when she found out about his cheating. Because "he didn't feel he deserved her and she'd be better off". He's LITERALLY the worst actor of all time. And Tori. She looks like a bird who has a broken wing, and wants everyone to know she's injured. But in that I'm ok but I'm not ok kind of way.

All I keep thinking is, these FOUR, yes four, kids are going to see this train wreck and wonder why the hell their parents put their celebrity before them.

But don't get me wrong. I'm so watching it. Just to judge the shit out of them. I can't help it. I'll admit. I feel bad for her sometimes. But there are stories out there, they made it all up to get themselves a show. If that's true, they really are douche bags.

Either way, I'll be watching. Judging. Eye rolling. And well...more judging.

This is my life.

The spring had sprung. And the snow was leaving us. However, we got a dumping of about 9 inches here last night. I'm ok with this. I don't hate winter and cold like everyone else. We don't try and "get away" in the winter time. I like it. That's why I live in MN.

Sadly being "cooped" up in the house for a few months really makes for messy bedrooms, unorganized thoughts and spaces, and well just all around ddddduuuuuuhhhhhness.
But for some reason, the snow made my kids EXTRA special this morning.

KIDS: Is it a snow day?!?!?!

ME: No.

KIDS: LaDeeDaDeeDaDeeDum......(this is them not doing a damn thing to get ready for school)

ME: Brush your teeth you guys. (you don't want to KNOW how many times I told them to get dressed, eat breakfast, get their backpacks ready, clear their breakfast dishes, etc. you get it)

KIDS: Are you sure it's not a snow day?

ME: BRUSH YOUR TEETH!

CLAIRE: I can't find my toothbrush.

ME: WHAT? WHERE IS IT?

CLAIRE: I don't know.....LaDeeDaDeeDaDeeDum

MILES: I can't find it mom.

ME: Miles! Brush YOUR teeth!

MILES: LaDeeDaDeeDaDeeDum

ME: Seriously?!?!

KIDS: LaDeeDaDeeDaDeeDum I bet it's going to be a snow day.

ME: Get moving! Get your backpacks ready!

KIDS: THEY ARE! *deep sigh from Claire* LaDeeDaDeeDaDeeDum

(they aren't)

ME: You guys! Dad's waiting for you outside!!!

KIDS: LaDeeDaDeeDaDeeDum Oh ok.

KIDS: By mom! Love you!

ME: AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!

Yeah...so that happened this morning.

9 years and still so happy

Today we celebrate bringing Miles home from Korea. It's been 9 lovely years. He's an amazing kid. We're so lucky.

One of my favorite memories of the return trip home.....I had been sick the entire time Ryan and I were in Korea. The flight home I was miserable. (Miles was perfect of course) And it took forever to get through customs in MN.

But Ryan and I were coming off the elevator and the doors opened and I saw my bestie jumping up and down yelling "THEY'RE HERE!!!! THEY'RE HERE!!!!!" And pounding the glass.

It was the most welcome sight. And all was well.

And nine years later I'm reminded of the love and care that Miles was welcomed into.

Miles in Korea getting ready to leave

This makes perfect sense.

She's ready

Today Miles had a friend over. A friend the kids are really close to. He's adorable. I love him. He's a good kid.

He was standing next to Claire and me in the kitchen talking, when Claire let one rip. She farted. REAL loud.

I looked at her and said, "Claire! Did you fart?!?!" Miles' friend said, "I DIDN'T DO THAT!"

Claire looked at us and very deadpan said, "Yeah it was me. He was standing in my personal bubble."

I'm good with it. She's going to be just fine when it comes to boys.

I didn't see this coming.

Delving further into my 23andme results, I learned my genetic make up. And it's not all Korean.

What's that you say? Yep. I'm pretty much 50/50 Korean Japanese.

I'm not going to lie. It was a bit of a shock. And I wanted to run around my house galloping like a mad rabid horse yelling OH-MY-GOD-WHAT-IS-THIS-WORLD-COMING-TO-HOLY-SHIT-MOTHER-FUCKER-MY-LIFE-AS-I-KNOW-IT-IS-A-LIE-OH-WHY-MEEEEEEEE!? 

But instead I was all, "Hey guess what? I'm as Japanese as I am Korean. Weird right?" 

My mom said she was surprised at how "well" I took the information. Ha little did she know I was a crazed lunatic in my head. But I'm ok with it now.

I have also learned I have about 150 3rd-6th cousins. Maybe I'm related to Kevin Bacon after all. I mean...isn't everyone?

I'm so excited right now!

I got this cool DNA testing kit for my birthday from Ryan. You spit in a tube for a million hours, then mail it in.

It was supposed to give me medical information and ancestry information based on my DNA. And I submitted it in November.

Due to the FDA being money hungry bastards, 23andme delayed processing information for quite a while. Also they no longer offer medical information. However, due to the actual date that I submitted the spit. I made it just under the wire to get all the goods.

And today after long last. I got the goods.

I won't bore you with all the details. But suffice it to say I won't be making any hasty medical decisions anytime soon. I take the info with a grain of salt regarding the medical stuff. I mean...it's super technical. I've never even heard of most of the diseases, syndromes, and other miscellaneous mumbo jumbo.  But it's nice to know that I don't carry the gene for Alzheimers or Parkinsons.

My favorite part. The part I find the most fascinating, is the "traits" page. It says things about hair color, height, muscle growth, response to exercise, finger length. All the stuff people know and learn about by knowing their family. Their genetic family. I'm almost in tears thinking about the things I've finally learned about myself. Why I'm the way I am. I've never known it. And it makes me feel more connected to my birth family then I have ever felt.

I feel fortunate to learn these things. Next up....I get to find out about ancestry. In two weeks, I could possibly find blood relatives. That's something I never thought possible.

I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who cares about this stuff. But it sure means so much to me. And I can't stop talking about it, which I'm pretty sure is bugging the shit out of people. But whatever. They've had their whole lives to know themselves. I'm just finding out for the first time. They can deal.

Ah..crap

Well it's happened.  My swearing has reached EPIC proportions. I mean...Fucking epic.

Ryan and the kids have noticed that I will drop the F-bomb, and a shit any old time. I'm so thankful that my kids realize that they're just words. But yet, they are NOT allowed to utter them, themselves.

However. The other day. I was in Miles' room, and he came strolling in and must have realized he forgot something and said, "Oh shiiii.....(pause)...nevermind mom!" And ran out. AFTER making this face

You know he was about to finish the word. But caught himself JUST.IN.TIME.

You may ask, "Did you get mad SJT? Did you punish him?" How can I be mad? I can't. I laughed and busted him. Then I heard them. Those turds. Ryan and Claire told me I need to "work on my swearing."

So now I have a swear jar. Well...it's more like a swear wine glass. I have to put a quarter in it each time I swear. At least each time the kids hear me swear. (I told Ryan I'd go broke if it was for ALL swearing.) I realize I'm the worst mom. I never used to swear. I must be low on vitamin D.

Either way. I have the stupid swear police on my ass daily. Claire gets simply giddy if she even hears me say dangIT and has to check to see if I said DANG it or DAMN it. She's a shit. It started yesterday and I already have quite a collection of quarters in the glass. I've just given up at this point and put my bag of quarters next to the glass.

Ryan said that in no time at all, he'll be able to get the XBox One or the PS4. Or probably both with my fucking mouth. I'm blaming the weather. Stupid fucking Polar Fucking Vortex.

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.