This is how I review a book

Read this book...

It's amazing.

You will not be able to put it down!

The End.

Do you RUN run?

I run.

Not like run run. Just run.

Not like I'm-gonna-spend-the-next-6-months-nearly-killing-myself-training-for-the-day-I-will-push-myself-to-the-brink-of-death run. If I wanted that, I would just get pregnant again.

Most people run because they love it. Some run to meet a goal, to beat a time. And still others join to win a free t-shirt.

Me? I run to sweat. Plain and simple. Stinky and gross. I like it. There is great satisfaction that comes from a soaked shirt and wet hair. It's less satisfying if I don't shower right away. Way less satisfying. Not recommended. But still, the sweat....awesome!

My platform of choice? My treadmill.

I know. I know. I can hear you all groaning, "That's so boring!" Hey! Boring is a state of mind. 
Yes, I know that nature is much more pleasant to look at than the holes in my wall and the dust on my shelves. And the air is fresher...more fresh?...(dang ASL, messing with my English)... outdoors than it is indoors.

Yeah, I know. But there's just something about having a machine propel you forward. Plus, it tells me how fast I am going, how far I am running, and how many calories I am burning. Nice.  If I wanted, I could make hills and valleys, mountains and plateaus, inclines and declines. Lucky for me, I don't ever want to do that.

But this week, being Spring Break and all, I have been taking my kids to the track and running while they play on the grass or in the sandpit or with the javelins. I didn't run as far. I didn't run as fast. I didn't sweat as much.

Why, then, am I so sore!?!! Can someone please tell me why my shoulder blades are killing me? And my legs feel like mush? And my back aches? And why my abs have suddenly decided to come out of hibernation? Why?

This is what happens when I run....

...like run run.

The perfect seat...

I died laughing.

From where I sleep, I can see the doorway to the upstairs bathroom, aka the kids bathroom. I tell you this not so that you think I am a weird mommy bathroom stalker who keeping track of who goes in and how long they stay, because I am not that person. That would just be weird.

I tell you this so that you understand that sometimes I don't even have to get out of bed to be entertained. I simply have to roll over and pay attention.

This Saturday, I rolled over to see my oldest son, Kobe, enter the bathroom. Seconds later I see my second son, Brody, sneak up next to the doorway, making sure he was out of sight.

As Kobe exited to restroom, Brody said, in a low, rough, slightly louder than normal voice, "Flush-the-toilet!"

I thought Kobe was going to fall over.

It was hilarious!

I can still smell him....

Not until I was 16.

That was the magic number. That was that age at which I could date!! You know like go on a real date. That was big news.

But I had secretly gone on a date with someone before I was 16.  Well, kinda.

There was an 8th grader I thought was slightly interesting. It wasn't because I thought he was hot or cool or anything like that. I liked him because he liked me first. And I was only a 7th grader. Now that was fantastic.

He talked to my friend about me, because that's how we did things back then, and we planned for the three of us to meet up at the county fair.

In the middle of the day.

No-one goes to the county fair in the middle of the day. Not unless you are showing goats or something.

After his goats were all set...we met up by the rides. Just he and I and my friend.

I remember thinking I didn't like the way he smelled and it annoyed me. Surprisingly it wasn't the goats. It was some kind of musky cologne. I have a super sensitive nose, and don't forget that jr. high boys don't understand that less is more. His theory: more is more.

Well, we got into this ride that went around and around. Yeah, sounds like all the rides, right. Only this one used gravity to push the guy onto me. And the smell...oh the smell.  

About half way through the ride I started to feel sick. I told him that we needed to get off. He disagreed, signaling the controller to keep it going.

And I smelled him more.

At this point, my mouth started to water. Not the, "I-wish-he-would-kiss-me" kind. More of the the salt-before-you-vomit kind. I flagged his controlling buddy and he stopped the ride.

Immediately after exiting the ride, it all came up and out. All over the ground. It wasn't pretty. Nasty, actually. I should have been embarrassed but I was more annoyed than anything. Why did he have to stink so bad?

And with that taste of dating in my mouth, I decided it would be better to wait to date until I was 16.

Large appliances can be so rude!

My dryer hates me. It is now refusing to dry my clothes. Rude, right?

I mean, they are made for that purpose alone. Hence the name...DRYER. Sadly, mine did not get the memo. Or he was playing hooky the day they taught "The Purpose of Your Life: To Dry" in dryer school.

Yeah, I know it's been used. Heck, I bought it on Craig's List. But that's all the more reason for it to perform well for me. Heck, if I hadn't come along where would he be now? In some landfill? Maybe the side of someone's yard? I mean, he should be thanking me for taking what no-one else wanted. Sheesh.

Nope. Mine is not showing any gratitude whatsoever. In fact it is punishing me for helping to fulfill his life's work.

Oh, he hasn't gone on a full-on occupy strike yet. He's just dragging out his work.

Doesn't he know that I don't have time to dry each load one and a half times. No matter the size? Well, okay. I can't honestly say I have tried the x-small or small settings.

They do not exist in my household.

I do not want to buy a new dryer until I have money to buy a washer to go with it. Not because I want them to match, although that is one of the benefits. But I am desirous for once in my lifetime to own a washer and dryer that has the same load capacity. That has yet to happen.

So until then, I'm stuck with a dryer that does half the work and clothes that are slightly soggy.

He hates me. So rude! 

Never means never

"Mommy?" my 6 year old said to me. He was sleeping on my floor because he hadn't been feeling well.

At 2am, it took me a moment to wake up. "Uh-huh?"

Silence.

"When I come home from my mission can I live with you?"

"Camden, you will always be welcome at our house. But I think when you come home you will not want to live with me for very long," I told him.

"Oh yes I will. I will always want to live with you, Mommy. I love you so much. I never want to leave you," he confessed.

And with that, he rolled over and went to sleep.

These are the moments we treasure....

...until they literally never leave.

I am not there yet, so I am gonna enjoy the sweetness of the moment for a little while longer.

Toenail Ban

I think that we should ban toenails.

No, I'm serious. They can hurt people. No, like really hurt people.

I would know. I have a scar from a toenail gone mad.

So there I was, sitting on the couch, minding my own business, watching the newest episode of "The Love Boat." I loved that show, by the way.

Well, it was getting to the good part when two of my older sisters started to wrestle on the other end of the couch. You know, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then her sock came off leaving the nail fully exposed. The next thing I know I feel a sharp pain on the backside of my hand. And then blood. Red hot burning blood.

After much time and lots of Neosporin, it healed. And scarred. But that sucker hurt like nobody's business.

And so I am now passing around a petition for all interested parties to sign, and lobbying for any who will listen,  requesting that we ban toenails. Or at least limit the length to which one can grow them, inalienable right or not. Because if it can save just one person's hand, then it is worth it!

Anyone with me??