How fast is fast?

I hate people who drive the speed limit.

Okay, that's not true. If it were, I would hate my own father, and who hates their own father? Not me. So I guess I hate it when people drive the actual speed limit. It's just plain annoying.

I also hate people who speed.

Also not entirely true. If that were true than I would my own mother, and who hates their own mother? Again, not me. So I guess I hate it when people speed. It's just plain dangerous.

I guess what I am saying is that I love people who only break the law a little. People like me.

Hubs is this kind of person. That's why I married him. Really. It's the only reason I married him.

Okay, that's not entirely true. He also smells really nice most the time.

To me, when I see a posted speed limit of 60mph, it tells me that I can go 65mph without getting pulled over. It's a safe speed. But anyone who passes me is going way to fast and deserves to be pulled over. But if you're going my speed, we're friends.

Hubs married me for my double standard.

Let's hear it for the uni-brow!!

Underneath my forehead
and right above my eyes,
Lies these blondish hairballs,
one on either side. (of my face.)

Some people wear them skinny
some barely even there,
While others are oblivious
To the continuous line of hair (on their face)

We're talking about eyebrows,
In case you hadn't guessed.
And every time I look at mine,
I feel a little stressed.

You see, nobody taught me,
The proper way to tweeze,
The best way to hold your hand'
The most effective way to squeeze.

Am I supposed to wash them?
or pull a certain way?
Is it okay to tweeze on top?
Did you read Micheal Vey?
(Sorry, random thought, but it rhymed...plus a fun read.)

Every time I pull a hair,
I cannot help but sneeze.
Can somebody remind me
why we do this, please?

Who here hates to do it?
Who else here is done?
Lets cease to do the plucking
and make our brows be one.

Let's hear it for the uni-brow!!!

Replaced

I've been replaced.

I left for two nights...TWO nights! and already he has found a new love.

He told me that he spent all day with her; carried her around all day. They were connected at the hip. Specifically, his hip. He even slept with her...as in lying next to him....in the middle of the day...in my bed! Our bed. Mine and his. Not mine and hers.)

Scandal!!!

For 2 whole day I was out of the picture...quite literally.

Lucky for me she isn't as cute as I am. Right? Just look at her.

Skank!


Hooking up with Jen Matlock ABC Thursday.

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.