The Bees Knees

When I was younger (a LOT younger), I did some figure skating. I fell. A lot. My skating days ended when my knees starting acting up, which I attribute to all of the falling. Skating is hard you know. I ended up having both knees scoped in high school, cartilage shaved and debris removed.

During my second marathon, my left knee started hurting - enough to slow us down quite a bit starting around mile 21 or 22. I finished, and continued to run. I have not gotten very high in mileage since then, not beyond a 1/2 marathon. This was mostly due to getting sick in 07, not because of the knee.

Over the past year or so I have had trouble with the knee locking up and hurting under the kneecap. This affects running, but it also affects simply things like walking, stairs, giving the boys a bath, sitting for long periods of time. I am sure when I screwed my quad playing soccer that the increased stress on the left leg didn't help...but I think it is simply over-use and poor alignment of the knee.

We have tried steroid shots, steroid patches, physical therapy, rest, ice, heat, elevation, voodoo magic and have come up empty. I am now scheduled for surgery - lateral release and hoffa pad removal - next week. I am a little skeptical at this point - wondering if this is the right thing to do. My doctor put it pretty simply - if I don't have the surgery, it will get worse. If I get the surgery, it might get better. This surgery is really the only option at this point. Dilemma.


Walking Stick

Our dinner entertainment at The Oasis tonight.

More Conversations from the Road

As we passed a place called Chainsaw Sculptures:

Todd: I want a sculpture

Me: They are opened. You could stop and order one. So do they chop up people or what?

Todd: Ummm...

Me: Exactly HOW WOULD that conversation go?

Todd: I want a sculpture. Use one arm, two legs and half a head. Obviously you are the artsist - so I will leave the rest up to you.


Todd (to the driver ahead of us): Hey! There is NO stop sign. WHY are you stopping? 'Baby on board...IS THE BABY DRIVING?

Me: I'm salty.
Todd: My very own salt lick.
Me: What are you, a horse?
Todd: I'm hung like one.


Scab Face

My Scab-Face

I had a facial peel and microdermabrasion performed (like it is a circus act?) on my face yesterday. I have been seeing a dermatologist for a skin infection that left some dark spots and scarring on my face and I wanted them to go the hell away. So - this was the recommended solution. This morning I woke up to small scabs all over my face. It is really not very pretty. It is, in fact, the exact OPPOSITE of the outcome I had been seeking. I go back in this evening at 7:00pm to have them assess the damage.

Wouldn't you know that this weekend Todd and I are going out of town to celebrate our anniversary. Of course we are! Scabby face and all. Cannot wait.


The Beach

We were looking at random pictures on Flickr. We came across a kid on a beach.

Roark: I wanna go there sometime. So lets go there sometime. I don’t know who built that beach. I think it was the American workers. The American workers are black workers. They wear black coats (oh thank GOD that is what he was referring to) and they live in Africa (huh???). I saw them on Garbage Monsters (a DVD they got for their birthday that I am so sick of I could puke).

I have no idea where kids get some of their ideas...but they make me itch.


106 Heat Index

Earlier today:

I finished up my meetings and read through my most pressing emails. I appeared to have some free time and decided to go for a run. I wasn’t really in the mood, but figured if I ran I would feel less guilty about the nachos I was making for dinner.

As I walked out the door, Brittany was just pulling up with the boys. They had been swimming and looked EXHAUSTED and hot. Also, HALF DEAD. I should have taken this as a sign of things to come, but I am way too stupid for that… so off I went.

I took the Big Park route, and headed out of the neighborhood. About ½ mile out I came to the conclusion that what I was doing was attempted suicide and wondered if my insurance would cover me if I died. I decided they would not, but kept running anyway. 1 mile out, I started looking for short cuts…and took one through the park. This was a mistake. I headed to a water fountain near the soccer fields and was assaulted with the smell of vomit. Or trash. I couldn’t tell which.

After filling up my water bottle with Plano’s finest pond water* I continued running, only to begin puking less than a minute later. It occurred to me that the vomit smell may have been from earlier runners too stupid to stay inside.

As I past the playground I noticed that there was NOBODY PLAYING OUTSIDE. This is unusual. There is always at least one parent trying to ignore their kids at the park even on the hottest of days…but not today. Of course not. IT WAS TOO HOT.

I was now at the point of no return. There were no shortcuts and it was as far back as it was forward…so I kept going. At one point some clouds showed up, and I firmly believe that is the only reason I survived. After crossing the street back into the neighborhood, I decided to stop at the pool and get more pond water to dump on my head – only to find a “Pool closed due to fecal contamination” sign on the gate. Commence gagging AGAIN.

The last few blocks were the worst. I nodded to my fellow dying worms on the sidewalk “dude, I know how you feel” and to the bunnies trying to nap in the shade.

This is a very drawn out way of saying that it is really effing hot outside and I wish I had not gone running. The end.

Pole Dancing

Last week I went to a pole dancing class. And? I loved it. I really did. The down side was the horrible pain my arms and back were in for the following 3 DAYS! Who knew those strippers were in such great shape? Not me. So now I am contemplating taking more of the classes. There is the upside of confidence, physical fitness, spending time with other girls, and just plain old fun. Todd would certainly be a big supporter of it as well. The biggest down side would be the cost. The classes run around 200.00 for 6-8 sessions...which is a lot in my opinion. What to do, what to do?


Roark is Very Safety Conscious

He is now wearing a Helmet, knee pads and elbow pads...everywhere.

What Cole is Wearing

Cole wanted 'Big Socks' - and looks ridiculous.


The Letter R

Life is moving along pretty much at a normal pace here. It is summer. In Texas. It is hot - and I love it. I have been working out, running, walking, doing The Shred and yoga. I have been working. The girls are home. The boys are running around non-stop. Life is good. Boring, but good.

Todd and I are going out of town for our anniversary next weekend (just the two of us), which will be fun. It would have been nice to spend more than a weekend away, but this is a bad time of year for that. See also Money, and Doesn't Grow on Trees.

Also up? A girlfriend asked me to go with her to a "thing", so this Friday we are headed to a little party a friend of hers is having at a local dance studio where they teach - pole dancing. Who would have thought. No, I don't harbor any deep desire to be a stripper, I just thought it would be hilarious and fun. Shut up. And no, there will not be pictures.

We found a preschool for the boys. They will start in the fall. We are just waiting for registration to open. Originally we discussed 2 days a week, however I am thinking 3 days is a better way to go - M, W, F. It is kind of expensive, but will be good for them. I think they are a bit much for Todd's mom these days, and need some structure and more to do. Plus - it would be nice if Roark quit insisting that all of the numbers are the letter R.



As I type this, my 4 year old son Roark is lying next to me, fighting the 3:00pm sleepies. He is dressed in a puffy-chested spiderman costume from last Halloween. He is always dressed in a puffy-chested spiderman costume these days. In fact, he has worn this for the last 45 days straight. I don't know how to relate to this. I hate comic books. I hate super heroes. I think I hate most things that 4 year old little boys like...insects, spiders, snakes, cartoons, all things star wars, all things garbage, and the list could go on and on. And yet - here I am with TWO four year old boys.

I like my kids. I love them. But sometimes...well, I just don't "get" them.


At the bookstore we were sitting at

This is a fountain...no lie. Phallic much?