Running. With Dog.

We went running tonight. It was warm and windy. I decided to take a test run with our dog Zieggy. Todd is out of town next week, and if I want to run, it will have to be at night. I don’t really like running alone at night, so I figured it would be more motivating if I took the dog.

So the test run – it was ok. Zieggy likes to go after the bunnies, squirrels, other dogs, tall grass… He is a little wild if I don’t keep him in check at all times, so I was concerned about the amount of energy it would take to keep him calm. And you know what? It wasn’t bad. I ran with him for the first half, and then Todd took him. And NOT running with a dog made me feel like I was running on air! So I don’t think having him on my own will be an issue.

I may not be able to run as far, since he jacks up my heart rate a bit…but as long as I am running a little bit, I will feel good.

Mommy Blogger

The term “mommy blogger” doesn’t sit well with me.

I really don’t like being labeled something that is only a part of who I am. I am a mommy. I think I am a good one. Most of the time. But I am also a daughter, a sister, a wife, a career woman, a friend. I am a person who happens to have children. I am not sure how anyone with children who writes about them becomes only a mommy blogger, but it happens.

And then there is issue of why I even care… I have no idea. I suppose it makes me feel two-dimensional. I think about this when I am reading other “mommy blogger” sites… I think about how they typically only write about their kids, their family life – I suppose the things that are most immediate and pressing – and I wonder what else these people do…what they enjoy outside of the mommy stuff that they do. Maybe part of the problem is that being a mom (or a dad) takes up so much time, that there isn’t time for much more in the early years. I also think that if I am not constantly talking about/writing about/playing with my kids, that I am being the best parent I can. OH THE PRESSURE!


How I Go

Sitting in the living room

Putting together Cassie’s graduation playlist for her iPOD

Reading lists of “current” songs and not recognizing them

Feeling old

Thinking about college and growing up and leaving home

Wondering what her college days will be like

Wondering how her life will be

Remembering when I was getting ready to go to college – the excitement, the sheer terror, the mixed emotions

Remembering my first night away from home at school – feeling free, and happy

Hoping Cassie stays safe, and happy

I could tell you the wildest of tales
my friend the giant and traveling sales
tell you all the times that I failed
the years all behind me
the stories excelled.
and I'm drying out
crying out
this isn't how I go

- Yellowcard


My Child-Filled Stupidity

Hindsight being the amazing, all-knowing, ass-kicking that it is – I would go back in time and never ever would have read anything on a childfree board.

I am amazed. I looked at an issue, thought about both sides, admitted my short-comings and was flamed. Some people were accepting of me, but overall – the hate…it rages. It is too bad… It is a shame that people care more about being deemed “right” as opposed to understanding why other people feel the way they do or make the choices they make. This goes for those pro and against having children.

I am not sorry I am a parent. I am not jealous of the childfree. I don’t want them to convert to the parenting life. I don’t think all childfree people had a shitty childhood, were abused, or even hate children. I don’t need to be accepted by every group to feel valuable as a person. I guess I simply (and naively) thought that we could see reasons behind decisions, shake hands and co-exist. Oh, I am so, so stupid.


Performance Evaluation Time

Do you think you are a good friend? A good husband or wife? A good lover? A good parent? A good pet-owner? A good employee? Do you think you are a good person?

I have been going through what seems like unending performance reviews at work for all of my employees, and it makes me think about life in general. We don’t really have reviews on how we are doing as individuals. Can you imagine if our spouses and children and friends and pets were to put into words how they felt about our performance/behavior/attitude on a regular basis? If they were to publish it…review it with us…put us on performance plans? I wonder how I would rate?

I believe the reviews may look something like this:

CATS: What in the fuckity fuck is wrong with you woman – giving all of the attention to the dog and ignoring us endlessly? Neglect much? We are fat and lazy because a dog lives in the god damned house. GET RID OF HIM!

DOG: Why can I not eat whatever the hell I want? Why won't you let me attack the rabbits? And why can I not fart whenever, wherever I want without you yelling at me? And I LIKE barking at the garbage truck. Leave me alone!!!

BOYS: Why do we have to nap, or eat, or pee in a potty, or dress, or sit in a car seat? Those things are not fun. We want to watch Dora, play in the mud, and poke at the fire ants. Back the fuck off already!

HUSBAND: More blow jobs, please. What? I said please.

GIRLS: We want more money. And a car. And no curfew. And someone who doesn't care about grades to step in as a parent.

FRIENDS: Is your phone broken? You could call at least once a year. Or send a card. No stamps there in Texas? You suck!

I think I would be marked “improvement needed to achieve expectations”


82 and Chilly

We ran two nights in a row. I am officially a goddess. Ok – maybe not a goddess. Perhaps just a little bit less lazy. Still… I feel like I deserve an award.

It was close to 80 degrees here today, and I have to say to the sun “holy hell, I have missed you – never ever ever leave me again…I promise to treat you right, baby…please just don’t leave me” – or something less ridiculous that might entice the warm weather to stick around. It feels like we have had an everlasting winter and I am so freaking glad to see it go. Perhaps that is because I spent the whole damned summer in the hospital?

To celebrate the awesomeness of the warmth today, we went out to dinner – and SAT OUTSIDE! I imagine in a few months it will be 10 trillion degrees here. How excited will sitting outside make me then, you think? Well, seeing how the blood that runs through my veins averages lower than the temperature of the Antarctic Plateau, I doubt I will mind the stifling heat. Todd will attest to my constant cold. In all honesty, if it is below 83 degrees outside, I need a jacket. If it is below 60, you will see me with mittens. If it is below 40, you won’t see me outside. I will be holed up in the house, under blankets, crying. It is what I do.

Forecast for tomorrow: I may not even need a jacket!


Run Like Hell

Monday did NOT lead to running. It led to carry out from CafĂ© Express, sofa-sitting and movie-watching. I like to think that watching I Am Legend burned calories, just by being in suspense…so it evens out, right?

This evening I was not really into the running either. Especially when my husband pointed out that I had recently committed to running several times a week, and had only run once since. I won’t say much about that discussion, but I can say that we won’t be having it again.

So – we did run tonight only because of the GUILT. And although we didn’t run far, it was good. I was just sitting here thinking that I love the endorphins and why, oh why don’t I run more often?

So tomorrow may bring running, or not. The girls are here, so it is hard to squeeze in a run, but perhaps in the morning.

Run like hell and get the agony over with. - Clarence DeMar

Differences and Arguments

There is nothing wrong with not wanting children. It doesn’t hurt me a bit if you don’t want them and never have them. What is harmful is bashing those who choose a lifestyle that is different than yours – regardless of the issue at hand. Making fun of people’s life choices and being intentionally hurtful is wrong. It is wrong if you are targeting homosexuals. It is wrong if you are targeting a specific race or religion. It is wrong if you are targeting childfree people. It is wrong if you are targeting parents of premature babies. And it is wrong if the target is people who choose to have children.

I don’t know where all of the ugliness is coming from, but it is out there, and it is cruel, and thoughtless. It is not just the anti-child advocates, but the parents retaliating are guilty as well. I am embarrassed to be part of world where we behave like this...where we can no longer find a civil way to express ourselves and discuss our differences like adults.

Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun. Care for those around you. Look past your differences. Their dreams are no less than yours, their choices no more easily made. And give, give in any way you can, of whatever you posses. To give is to love. To withhold is to wither. Care less for your harvest than for how it is shared and your life will have meaning and your heart will have peace. – Kent Nerburn


Monday Cliche

I can tell it is Monday with every fiber of my being. And while yes, I realize how cliché it is to complain about a Monday, it has been too hectic to not even receive a mention.

Work so far today (knocking repeatedly on wood, hoping for the best) is not nearly as bad as last week…but it is after all only Monday. I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

I plan to run after work today. I imagine I will make it .4 miles before my heart starts racing and I have to freaking walk. Stupid vaso-spasm. It is making things difficult. I did really love feeling more alert today and the soreness from all the sit ups I have started, and the return to running – well, it is good in a strange way. It gives me energy and makes me happy...even if I am not running very far.


Hush Now Baby

My husband saw me updating my blog and asked “Did you write about Roark the royal terror?” – which, well, no – I was not. But since he mentioned it….

Roark was a BUTT of huge proportions today. It started this morning and continued until his very last waking moment. It was very reminiscent of the olden days when he would power-cry all day long. He certainly gave us a run for our money.

Building a tower made him cry. Playing with balloons made him cry. Making a tunnel out of old cardboard boxes? Made him cry. Dinner, books, cars, trucks – all made him cry. The grocery store didn’t seem to cause much of a meltdown – but the second we got home we were ensconced with more of the boo-hooing.

Bedtime was a cry-fest of magnanimous proportions which started with him wanting to carry a truck upstairs, not carry a truck upstairs, and then – wanting to carry a truck upstairs. I should have seen THAT ONE coming a mile a way. He was crying so hard by the time we started reading books that he was hardly able to catch his breath.

He eventually settled down after a few books and went to bed when we were done. The second we left the room? SCREAMING! Todd decided that his ability to begin crying so quickly may have set a new world record. I tend to agree. And the reason he was crying? We had left the library books in his room.

Thank GOD he is now asleep. I certainly hope this isn’t the beginning of a new phase… I cannot imagine how we would deal.

You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance. ~Franklin P. Jones


I went running yesterday for the first time in a LONG time. I am a bit sore today in the quads, but in all honesty there was not as much running going on as I would have liked. I wore the heart rate monitor, as demanded by my cardiologist and found that keeping my heart rate below 150 requires me to be almost comatose. I made it maybe ½ mile to a mile before I had to walk and let my heart calm down. Then I would be able to go a few blocks, followed by walking. By the end of the 3 ½ mile course, I was walking after a block. I finally gave up and walked home.

Todd didn’t seem to mind the haphazard running – he seemed happy just to be outside and exercising at all. Meanwhile I was stressing out over not being able to run like I used to. I know that I have to adjust to the new me. I may eventually be able to run like I used to, but that will only happen with training and time. Apparently LOTS OF TIME. I guess I just didn’t think it would take so long to get back in shape. I now see that I will have to put some weight training, swimming, and possibly stationary biking in the mix if I want to get in shape and not kill myself by running too much.

Running used to be the thing I felt I was good at. I wasn’t fast, but I could run distance. I guess now I have to simply be happy with being alive and being able to exercise at all. It is yet another lifestyle change that I find annoying.

Easter Sobriety

Turns out I have had the wrong approach to the holidays. All I have to do is load up on chocolate and I don’t miss the alcohol.


Actually Exchange with Co-Worker

Him: Wow - you have gained weight lately.... I mean, you look good. That weight you have gained looks good on you!

Me: *blink* *blink* (very very long pause) Did you just tell me I am fat?

Him: Ummm, no. No, no no. I just noticed that you have gained some weight and well, it um. Shit.

Me: (Am definitely going to start running again - like NOW)


Comment by friend: You really should accept the fact that you can be too skinny.

Me: Never ever gonna happen.


Work. As in Ass-Kicking.

Work is really kicking my ass today. Seriously. As it has all week. We have a situation that is requiring the attention of approximately 5 billion people (if you were to sit in on a meeting, you would know this) – not that most of us can do anything to fix it, but when all hell breaks loose, we tend to throw people at the problem. Stupid way to handle it if you ask me, but whatever.

So – I am in the middle of “The Project that Ate My Soul” and I wish someone would shoot me. Or the customer. Yeah – shoot them – then I can live and the problem goes away.


St. Patty’s day without drinking = Just Another Day

Yesterday was a typical Monday for us. Work. Kids. Dinner. Bed. In the past, St. Patrick's Day was a reason to go out, to drink beer, to hang out with friends, to drink beer. Oh, I mentioned that one already? Well, there was a lot of the beer drinking, so it is appropriate.

This was the first year we didn't drink to celebrate the "almost holiday" and I have to say that it held no interest for me at all.

This no drinking thing? It is ruining the holidays.


If you are looking for Roark....he is in time out.

Tonight was a test in self control. The toddler-ness in my toddlers was at full force, as they pushed all of my buttons. And not the good ones. First there was the mulch/sand incident. I went to the bathroom, and upon returning found a huge pile of mulch and sand on the kitchen floor. There was a suspicious dump truck and guilty-looking two-year-olds nearby.

Then there was the franks and beans on the carpet incident. I had gone upstairs to retrieve pajamas for bedtime. Roark ran into me with the earlier guilty dump truck, and upon looking at it, I realized that it was filled with part of his dinner. As I looked into the living room, on the carpet was the rest of it.

The dump trucks are in time out in the garage. Roark is in time out until he is no longer two.


As we were walking after dinner, the boys took it upon themselves to have a little toddler conversation. It mostly centered around poop.

Roark: It is going to rain poop.

Cole: That car is pooping.

Roark: That big boy is pooping.

Cole: That rain cloud is pooping. Poop.

They continued this throughout our neighborhood while they sat in the wagon giggling. We past several people along the way. All of them were accused of pooping.

As soon as we left our neighborhood and crossed the busy street to the walking/jogging trail the poop talk stopped. The boys got out of the wagon and ran around collecting sticks. They pretended they were gladiators. They tried playing baseball with rocks, they chased squirrels. And then I suddenly remembered that we are potty training them, and they were in underwear. And – there was no potty anywhere nearby. So – back in the wagon they went and we headed home.

As soon as we hit our neighborhood the poop talk started again.

Roark: That bush is pooping.

Cole: That pool is full of poop.

Roark: Rain, rain go away. Come again another….poop.

Cole: Poop, poop go away.

Roark: Yeah! That’s how that goes!

Now, it may be just me, but is that their way of indicating that we have a shitty neighborhood?

Fashion Don't

I do not claim to have a lot of fashion sense. I watch what other people wear, and find a few things that I think are flattering. Recently a catalog showed up and I found a skirt and top that I was in love with. I tore it out, put it on my desk and decided to finally order it. They were sold out of the top, which was what really made the outfit. The skirt alone would be just so-so. And I decided to pass on it. The combined outfit would have been ~150.00. I then looked online at my few favorite places – Tommy Bahama, Banana Republic, and others. I ended up at Nordstom and I have to say that I feel like I have gone back in time. Look at this. Go ahead. I can wait.

Don’t even look at the price (which may make you queasy) – simply look at the dress, at the model. What in the HELL? The 60s called – and they want their stuff back.

Staying In Shape

It is Monday. We have a whole new week ahead – full of working for the MAN, toddler wrangling, dinner making, house-taking-care-of, working out (more on that later), dog-poop-cleaning-up, kitty-litter-changing, laundry-doing, and a whole mess of other every day stuff. And although the have-to list for the week doesn’t make me break out in a huge grin, it doesn’t seem bad. I was telling a friend that I suppose it is all a matter of perspective. Last week so busy that there is very little they could throw at me this week which would top it.

The working out? Every day, baby. Every day. Starting today (bets on how long it takes to NOT do this?) I will be running 4-5 days a week, working out at the gym 2-3 days a week, and walking every evening with the boys.

I don’t anticipate running being much of a success at first. We are going to run at night after the boys go to sleep. I hate this time of day for running, but it beats 0-dark-30 at 5am. And since Todd and I have meetings throughout the day at different times, it is our only option for running together. I suppose we could both just run during the day whenever we get the opportunity, but then we are not spending time together, which would be nice.

As for the gym, I need some muscle. I would say I need to tone them, but that would assume I have some in the first place. Which I don’t. Being sick for so long took its toll on me, and it is time to get back in shape.

It is now lighter out at night, and the weather is warmer – so it is back to our schedule last year where we would walk around the big park after dinner every evening. We will feed ducks, watch baseball practice, and get home just in time for a bath and bed. I am looking forward to it.

So my plan for today is to go to the gym later this afternoon when my meetings are done and torture myself on the elliptical for 45 minutes. I am going to sign the boys up for spring soccer while I am there, and get a list of the current aerobics classes too. And that…is that.


Naps and Sanity

Nap time for the boys is always a battle. While they still need a nap , it is difficult to convince them of this. The days where I don’t insist on the nap, they are tired, and whiney and cranky. They push us to the outer limits. They are almost unbearable. The days when they settle down and fall asleep for any significant amount of time? They are sweet and mostly manageable throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening.

The real issue with the napping is this: They no longer sleep in a crib. They can get out of bed, run around their room, take all of the books off of the shelves, empty out the dresser, take all of the animals out of Noah’s Ark, and scatter dinky cars EVERYWHERE. They throw covers, pillows, socks around the room. They take the case off of their pillows. They poop. They do anything they can to avoid falling asleep. And sometimes they keep it up long enough that there is no sense in continuing the napping activity. Perhaps THAT is my problem? I am already calling it an activity...

Yes, I realize that getting them up, giving them what they want is the crux of the situation. They have had their way a few times, and know if they keep pushing, they will have it again. But, is there any sense in making a child stay in their room when they seem to have more stored energy than the Big Bang?

I am right this very minute sitting in their room on a beanbag chair typing this. I spent about 10 minutes telling them (in my quiet-yelling voice) to lay still, stop throwing things, put that down, hush and go to sleep, before they both drifted off. It may be the fastest they both have fallen asleep, ever. I am afraid to leave, lest the sound of the door opening or closing wakes them up and we have to start over. I may be here until dinner…

There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even of the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled. - Edward Verrall Lucas

And that above quote? It is LIES, ALL LIES. Edward Lucas had clearly never had a Bonterra Cabernet Sauvignon.


Biopsy Diagnosis: Never gonna find out

The dermatologist was supposed to fax the results of my biopsy to my other doctor. Tuesday. It is now Thursday and it still has not been done. I have called. I have sent a letter of release. I have waited. Do they not understand how to actually use a fax machine? I am baffled at the hold-up. And I am also seriously doubting their ability to have done the biopsy properly given that they cannot even maneuver simple office machines. Tomorrow I suppose that I will drive over there and get the damn thing myself. It appears to be the only way to find out what in the hell is going on.

Cole’s back is MUCH improved. He doesn’t complain about pain anymore and finished his antibiotics today. They took off the outer bandages earlier this week when I showed up one week early for our follow-up appointment. Perhaps my lack of attention to detail will land me a job in my dermatologist’s office. It appears I possess the most important skill.


Bitching and Moaning - I like to excel at everything I do

So, I don’t know. This is a rough week. It feels like a never ending list of “have to” with very little fun mixed in. Isn’t it strange how little can differ from one week to the next in the way of activities or responsibilities, and yet a kinked up attitude can shape it completely differently? What? You are not following me? I just think that perhaps the only difference this week from last is my attitude. This week – well, it sort of sucks. I am working, a lot. I am spending time with the boys, I am doing all of the normal stuff, but this week it feels difficult. Can you just hear my whining seeping through these typed words? I know – I am projecting at an “annoying level” of about 70 bazillion…but I feel so – well, ANNOYED! I cannot wait to move on to next week. There must be improvements, right? Right????

Biopsy results came back from the dermatologist. The nurse called and told me that it “showed dots on the vessels” – which… huh? She also mumbled something about thrombi or the rumba. I am not exactly sure which. What does that mean exactly? What kind of dots? I cannot google something that basic. Well, I can. I did. It was useless. They are sending the results to one of my other doctors, who will hopefully have a clue what that means. I am also hoping there is more in that report than that one line, because… well, if that is all there is to being a dermatologist, I could totally change careers now – WITH NO TRAINING WHATSOEVER. The medical community once again amazes me in their lack of knowledge.

That is about all of the complaining I can handle.


Boys Weekend Yard Work

It is tree trimming and mulching season here... Although I would like to point out the snow visible on the roof of the house behind us. Remember, we live in Texas. Snow in March is just wrong.

Todd was trying to actually accomplish something with his day over the weekend, so instead of wrangling the boys away from him, I played photographer and watched him struggle through 1) mulching while the boys "helped" and 2) trying to keep Cole from actually doing anything because he has freaking stitches across his back. Fun for all.


Do Not Wake The Sleeping Toddler

Roark spent the morning whining and complaining about every little thing – items such as wanting to play with dominoes at the coffee shop, not wanting to play with dominoes at the coffee shop, the number of dots on those very same dominoes, not being able to stack the dominoes all in one tower – because they kept falling, buying toys (Who cries about buying toys? Who?), the rotation of the sun… Finally, in the car on the way to the car wash (which he actually WANTED to do), he fell into a toddler coma and is at this very minute snoring in his car seat. It is a good thing too, because throwing him into moving traffic was sounding like our best option a mere 20 minutes ago.

Cole spent yesterday evening crying and complaining about his boo boo – where they cut out the hemangioma on Friday. He was miserable – so much that we ended up giving him pain medicine an hour early (3 hours instead of 4) two times – just to keep it at a somewhat tolerable level. He finally fell asleep slightly before 10 – 2 hours after his normal bedtime. He slept all night, and although at 6:00am this morning he was saying it hurt, it seemed manageable with only 1 dose of drugs. It is now 11ish, and he has not needed any since this morning. He too is snoring in his car seat. Bliss.

Cassie has been stragely combative recently. Arguing with every little thing I say. It is like a return to four years ago, during what we refer to as her “dark year.” That was the year where she was so angry and evil, that we hate to ever verbally acknowledge that it existed. I hope this is not a return to that year-long-phase, and merely a grumpy month. However, if we are looking at 12 months of mouth and mean, at least most of that will be spent with her in MI or WA. If that is the case, I apologize for any attitude she brings there. We tried to raise a sweet, loving girl. I have no idea where we went wrong.

The boys are still sleeping. We are running out of errands to run in order to avoid moving them and waking them up.

Target – check

Home Depot – check

Kroger – check

Now what?

I have spent most of the day dreading next week. How sad is that? I have about 20 hours of meetings Monday and Tuesday and it is terrifying me. Vacations and Cole’s surgery, as well as other factors, have piled on the work and there is no escaping it. I really do wish I were independently wealthy and work wasn’t something I HAD to do. Taking care of the boys, playing all day, would be so much more satisfying. But the lack of income – hell. Grass = greener.


Cole's Recovery

Cole is doing ok. He is acting a little stoned, and unfortunately not very tired. He wants to run and play and 1) lacks coordination and 2) isn't supposed to. So that is fun. He would like you to bust him out of house-jail and let him have some fun already. He is at this very moment wheezing and insisting on going walking with Nana and Papa.


Go Away Flu

It is snowing here. In Texas. In March. There is a nice layer of ice covering everything and the trees look heavy. Our palm tree has branches almost touching the ground. It is freaky.

Yesterday I had a biopsy done – to try and figure out what is causing the strange blister things on my fingers/hands. They have a list of things that are possible, including endocarditis, clotting, or simply Behcet’s. I am sporting stitches in my right index finger (which are making it hell to type) and am anxiously awaiting the test results. I am also surprised that they take so damn much flesh for a biopsy. Who knew?

The flu continues to make rounds through our house. Roark is on version eleventy-billion now. The cough…it shakes our foundation. Brittany came home with it yesterday too – so that is fun. I am (knock on wood) cold free, but have some crappy stomach bug that has me puking 24x7. You are welcome – I love to share. And no, I am not knocked up.

Dinner tonight is going to be crappy drive-through food because I just don’t care to cook and I want to see Todd try to drive in the bad weather.

Now that the writers strike is over, it would be really freaking great if they would get off their asses and write some new damn scripts for the shows. I’m just sayin’



We took Cole to the Dr. today for his pre-op appointment. What? Did I not mention that he is having surgery Friday? Huh. Well, he is.

Cole was born with a hemangioma and it has not disappeared yet, so we are having it removed. It is on his back and quite visible. With summer coming up, which brings swimming lessons and fun at the pool, we decided to remove it before other kids have an opportunity to harass him about it. Having his brother poke at it seems like enough ridicule to me. The plastic surgeon recommended we wait a few years to have it removed, when it would “be easier to keep him calm for the month after surgery”, which – if you have a kid at all would make you wonder what kind of crack she was smoking. It is NEVER going to be easy to keep him still. Not now – as a rambunctious almost-3-year-old and not in a few years – when he is involved in sports. So, now it is.

They will give him something they lovingly refer to as goofy juice, which will, I assume, make him goofy. Then they will take him away and put him to sleep. They will cut the hemangioma out, stitch the area, and send him on his way. At least that is how I understand it is supposed to happen. Of course my insane mother-mind takes all sorts of other directions when I think through what could go wrong, but it sounds like a simple, easy surgery, and he should be able to go home later in the day.

Right now I think our biggest hurdle will be keeping him calm when he realizes that he can have nothing to eat or drink the morning of surgery. I feel for the medical staff he is going to go off on, although with my hate of medical personnel in general, I think they deserve what is headed their way.


Breckenridge - Random Thoughts

We wake up early Tuesday morning and load up the car, being as quiet as possible, in hopes of escaping undetected by our 2 year old boys. I consider Operation Adult Vacation: Stealth Exit a success and then realize that I have forgotten some of my drugs. Back in the house I go, just in time to see sleepy little boys headed down the stairs. I am glad to see them, to say goodbye, to hug them and smell their hair. I miss them already and we have not really even left. I go out to the car and send Todd in to say goodbye to the boys – he is as happy as I am to have seen them before we leave. It is odd that we went to such great lengths to be quiet and not wake them, and yet are thrilled to see them awake. Parenting is odd like that.


Breckenridge is a beautiful little ski town tucked into the mountains. It still looks like Christmas there, covered in snow and twinkle lights. People wander in and out of stores looking for the perfect souvenir or gift for someone back home. It appears to take up the largest chunk of time in the evenings next to eating.


I insisted on lessons the first day out on the slopes. I had not been skiing in seven years and really did not want to add “broken bone” to the list of things wrong with me lately. While I remembered how to ski, at least the very fundamentals, I lacked confidence. And although we were victims of one of the most amazingly annoying instructors I can imagine, it was a success. I started out fearful of the blue runs, and by the time we departed Colorado 3 days later, I was sad that I wouldn’t get to ski the blacks and double blacks.

We spent the first day skiing a few green runs in the morning and by afternoon were only on the blue runs. On day two we were on our own and didn’t go near a green unless we had to, spending our time on the blues and even hit a blue/black. By day three, blue runs were making me yawn and yearn for something more fun. I imagine if it had not been so freaking crowded on Friday morning, we would have spent our last morning on the blacks. Instead, we tackled a few more blue/blacks and headed out. Todd mixed in some moguls and a few black runs, but we just didn’t have time to do much beyond that. I have always hated the mogul and avoided any area even pretending to be one of those evil hilly things. I wish I had tried them.


We actually discussed buying a condo there sometime in the future, and then we found out how expensive they are. We will never speak of it again.


I had the most amazing Mahi Mahi at Bubba Gump Shrimp. It was cooked in a bourbon sauce and it just melted in my mouth.


The flights both there and back were uneventful, which is really the only way to fly. We had exit row seats both ways, and we were only delayed a bit on the way home.


We played “best / worst” every evening while on vacation, and it was almost comical trying to come up with the worst thing of the day. There really was no worst. One day it had been the crappy moving conveyor thing under one of the chair lifts. It was so slow that Todd threatened to time it with a calendar. Another day the daily low centered around the ridiculous stories told by our ski instructor, all of which consisted of him dating some hottie (former Miss-Georgia, former Miss-South Carolina, former aerobics instructor) or two-to-three hotties at a time (and we hung out in Mexico in a hammock made for three). The stories were hideous and hilarious at the same time. The weather was perfect everyday. I was able to ski all day long without too much trouble. We had amazing food. We didn’t miss drinking at all. We did miss all of the kids, but enjoyed every single minute without them.


We didn’t take a camera, but you can see some pictures we had taken there, which are horrible…but we bought one anyway. No, I don’t know why my coat looks so puffy.