Kid quote of the day

If I had a tail…I’d wag it.

WHO CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM DOOR???

The TiVo downstairs cut off the ending of Grey’s Anatomy, so we quickly ran to the upstairs TiVo. We got to see two additional seconds but still have no idea who walked out of the bathroom door last night in Addison’s hotel room.

Is that where the show stopped or do you know? Tell me please.

Daymares

All the training is over. All the miles are behind me. If I’m not ready for the TC Marathon, there is nothing more I can do about it now.

I haven’t had any nightmares about the marathon like I have had in the past with the triathlons. However, this morning when it was dark and the alarm kept going off, I didn’t want to be out there in the cold darkness. I didn’t want to run in the cold darkness by myself. What if something happened to me in the cold darkness by myself? My mind wandered far enough to keep me inside, in my bed, until the sun came up and the gym doors swung open.

As I ran inside on the track knowing that was the right decision of the day, I kept thinking about how the training has gone relatively well and almost injury free (with the exception of a bit of arch pain), and how it was a good idea that I ran inside because if I had gone on that run by myself something bad surely would have happened.

My mind kept wondering and churning about the fact that all I have to do from here until Sunday morning is NOT: get hit by a car, get ax murdered, cut one of my toes off in a cooking accident, brake my ankle falling down the stairs, blow my knee out running after KP, hurt my back playing a stupid game of kickball, eat something that makes me so sick I can’t get off the toilet, get shot in the head by a car-jacker, have my eyes eaten out by red ants or be stupid enough in indulge in too much wine the night before the race.

I wish I had a chip I could put inside my head for this upcoming 26.2 miles so I could do a streaming live podcast from my brain and share the insanity with the whole world.

Killing me softly

Back in the day, when I was the only person I had to physically care for, it was easy to be on time. I didn’t like being late. I liked being 5 minuets early. You know, it gave me time to process. Today is a far different story.

Now, being late produces great amounts of anxiety in me. As this anxiety starts building and riddles its way from finger tip to arm and from arm to trunk and from trunk to neck and neck to head and then all of a sudden loud barking noises start spewing out of my mouth. Along with the unintelligible noises come copious amounts of saliva that spatter the walls and windows as I am ordering my little army to BRUSH YOUR TEETH, GET YOUR SHOES ON, GO GO GO WE ARE GOING TO BE LAAAAATE!!!!!!

At the height of being late this morning, with CT almost 35 seconds from missing the bus, PJ unable to get her apples into her snack bag without falling into a billion pieces and KP still running around naked playing with a 5 foot long sausage link of dirty diapers from the diaper genie, I took a second and wondered…could choosing to stay at home with your kids actually kill you prematurely?

I’m so ashamed

I can’t believe it.

I was writing a really great post.

Then I got sucked into Wife Swap…I teared up watching Wife Swap.

Did you hear me? Tears welled up in my eyes watching Wife Swap.

What the f*&$ is wrong with me?

Kid quote of the day

CT: MOM, MOM, I know what the F word is…FFUUUUCK!

And so it begins.

Find your inner secret

If you have a secret, a regret, a hope, a funny experience, an unseen kindness, a fantasy, a belief, a fear, a betrayal, an erotic desire, a feeling, a confession, or a childhood humiliation and you want to release yourself from it. Reveal it here.

Glad he’s not my type cause me thinks he saw my cooter

So to tell you the truth, my body aches. I have pushed it hard since February and I am feeling the ill effects of not enough rest and recovery. And the thought of October 2 (the day after the marathon) is oh so sweet and can not come fast enough.

After every one of the triathlons I did this summer, I promised myself a massage, which never happened. Now, after completing my last of the season last weekend, I finally took the gift card I had been saving since Christmas and used it today for a deep tissue massage.

Shaun was touted as their best deep tissue guy, so I took him. We discussed my problem areas (feet, hips, shoulders, especially under the shoulder blades) and he asked me if I was open to lying on my side so he could get into my hip area better. As I said “yes” it quickly dawned on me that unlike the Viking’s players he claims to have worked on, they were fully clothed in shorts and workout wear, I was going to be naked in between some sheets. Never the less I disrobed and slipped in.

Now, if you have had this type of massage before you know it is not for the faint of heart. There is no lying down and falling asleep to waterfall music and the gentle laying on of warm hands from the massage therapist. This massage is hard core, sometimes painful with lots of deep breathing just so you can make it through to the next knot…but always well worth the agony.

Shaun started at my shoulders and back, moved to my feet and legs and then went head long into my glutes. This is the part where I am now laying on my side, top leg at a 90 degree angle to my hip, bottom leg straight down and sheet, well that’s the problem…where oh where was the sheet?

Yeah, to be honest, I felt a little uneasy. I had 285 pounds of therapist pouring all his weight into my hip joint with his elbow, up and around the joint, slowly rooting out two knots that where so big that when they released my whole body slumped back down on the table exhausted.

In the midst of being tortured, I got to the point where I no longer cared about my exposed girly parts. I decided that if he was slimy enough to get a rise out of “that” then he would quickly get close enough to notice that I had not been kind enough to shower after my run in technical fibers this morning.

On my bedside table

Over the past several months I have picked up, read parts and put down more books than I can even remember. I use to never do that. If I started a book by all means I was going to finish it. Then I decided that life is too short for bad books.

I really shouldn’t harsh all the books I have put down as of late, it is really more me and the frame of mind that I am in than the book itself. And my hope is that the tide is changing.

This past weekend PJ and I were in the book store and I couldn’t help myself from touching and feeling and flipping even though I was getting pulled-on to go to the children’s section. And in an instant I grabbed Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs.

I am only about twenty pages into it so I can’t give you a full review but the first little bit has me laughing out loud all the while feeling very disturbed. It is an odd mix to say the least but has got me sucked in.

Anal retentive stay at home mother’s idea of the day

I make CT’s lunch the night before he goes to school. Last night I made ALL the kids lunches.

By making two more sandwiches last night I saved myself 17 minutes of work today.

I call that brilliant. Sick…but brilliant.