Trying not to lose my shit over here.

I don't mean to belittle the emotional angst teens go through, god knows that it really wasn't that long ago that I was composing lyrics baring my jealous heart and glaring at everyone through my dyed black hair.


Thinking that nobody could ever understand what went on inside my head and shut up stupid adult trying to tell me how to live my life. I'll be a loser who doesn't go to University if I want to, it's my future to do whatever I want with.


The only people who got it were my peers, lets go smoke a joint in the field across the street from school/get drunk on wine from the parents cellar and steal the car while they're out of town/drop acid and trip out looking at all the gum squished into the pavement downtown.


I would sit there as my mother lectured me for the 4th time that week, sitting on the edge of her water bed and rolling my eyes so hard, letting it all go in one ear and out the other. Sure mom, lets sign another contract promising that I'll try harder in school. Pfft.


Being on the other side is infinitely more complex and humbling. Ya, those adults actually did know what they were talking about.


Try telling that to a 16 year old who knows it all and doesn't care anyway. I didn't listen. He won't listen. They all do whatever they want, and all we can do is throw consequences at them, watch them not stick, and cross our fingers they figure it out before it's too late.


And then they can go through it with their own asshole teenager.


Ultimate revenge.

I could go on and on and on...

Disclaimer: most of you will probably find this to be the most uninteresting post I've ever made.

But fellow Whovians will get it. 

So I just wrapped up watching the new series of Doctor Who. Seven seasons crammed into roughly a month, with all the Christmas specials, some of the mini-episodes and of course the 50th Anniversary Special. 

Whoa, did the Anniversary Special blow my mind. Perfect in every way. 

And of course, like everyone that has become emotionally invested in this show-the fandom in MASSIVE yo-I have many thoughts that are just itching to get out. And nobody in my immediate circle that I can talk about it with. I tried to get Liam to watch with me but he said no. Jeff is insisting that IF he watches it, then he wants to start at the beginning. Nicholas and Joshua, well they will watch with me sometimes, but try having an intelligent conversation about the T.A.R.D.I.S. with a 4 year old. Yeah.

That leaves here, where I can bullet my thoughts and interpretations for only about 10 of you to actually care about. Good enough for me! Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

• Rose is my absolute favourite companion. She and the 9th Doctor had such a perfect friendship and it totally sucked me in. If I had started with 10 and say, Martha, I don't think I would have become so crazy about the show.
• Mickey's progression was bang on. Very believable counterpoint to Rose and the Doctor. And I love that he married Martha. 
• And our resident omni-sexual, Captain Jack. Love him so so so much. Next show to watch, Torchwood!
• Even though it was 9 that sucked me in, the 10th Doctor is my favourite. From the tearjerker that was Doomsday (OMG), to the kiss that made Martha fall in love with him, to being John Smith and showing him as a human, to his utterly and completely platonic relationship with Donna. It was romantic and cold at the same time. Weirdly, that made it perfect. I didn't want him to go either. 
• And speaking of, Doctor Donna? Best scenes of the whole series right there. I could watch that entire episode from start to finish a million times. My dream is that they fix Donna and her head and bring her back. 
• I like that Rose got her closure with the Meta-Crisis Doctor. 
• I'll come clean. I have very conflicting emotions and opinions about the 11th Doctor. On the one hand, I really liked him. And on the other hand, I found him incredibly difficult to watch. 
• But I loved the Ponds. The Centurion. Amy and 11's best friendship. Amy following Rory. Only thing was, I was expecting to be more moved by the goodbye and I wasn't. I can't help but think they're not over yet.
• And River Song. Again, I think I was expecting more than I got here. I thought I was going to love her, and I did. Her character was flashy and campy and entertaining but I never bought into her and the Doctor until their last episode. 
• Which brings me to Clara. If not for Rose, she'd be my favourite. Ultimate sacrifice and just awesome the way they wove her into the entire fabric of the show. And that scene revealing Trenzalore with the Doctor crying? Loved the emotion. 
• Oh, and I can't forget Vastra and Strax and Jenny. These ones kinda came out of nowhere for me. I'm positive there's a mini about how they came about somewhere but I haven't found it yet. Not that I've looked super hard. And I'm not too concerned either, because they exist perfectly for me without explanation. 
• The Anniversary Special...can we all just agree that it was everything we ever dreamt it would be? Tying it all together into a perfect present. 
• And 11's departure. Sad, but it was time. And no tears for me, I suppose because I never really connected with him. Unlike probably most of the rest of the universe. 
• I'm very excited to see what the 12th Doctor is like. And him and Clara together, well I'm just very very curious. The eyebrows make me think he's going to be a little more serious and contained, which will be welcome for me after the elasticity of 11. But we will see.

See? A whole bunch of nonsense of you non-Whovians. But if you Doctor Who virgins were to ask me which episode I'd recommend you to watch, to get your interest piqued? Either 'Blink' or 'Vincent And The Doctor'. You'll never look at a statue or a Van Gogh the same way again. 

I feel so much better for having gotten some of this out! 

Also, one last thing. Fucking Daleks. I don't understand how they just. don't. die. They're like Stefano from Days Of Our Lives. And the Cybermen too, but really. Daleks. 

Sneaky Sneaky

We're on the one week countdown to Mexico, where we're going to celebrate the marriage of a totally awesome couple. It's also the first time Jeff and I have ever been anywhere tropical, either together OR separately.

This is a trip sans kids. Well, sans OUR kids, which is just as well because if other people want to wake up at the crack of who-the-hell-knows with kids wanting to play in the ocean, all the more power to them. No, we've been lucky enough to have my sister offer to watch the little monsters.

(As we inch closer to the time, she's highly regretting it I'm sure. Her kids compared to mine are like angel children compared to the little bastards from Lord Of The Flies.)

(I'm exaggerating of course)

But anyway, I have been throwing shit into my suitcase for about a week now. People laughed at me because I'm doing it so early BUT if I had waited like a normal person then I wouldn't have realised that there's, um, not quite enough room for all the crap I NEED to take.

You ladies will understand. I need clothes for during the day and dresses for the night time too. I need bathing suits and cover-ups, and sandals that will work with all that. I need to bring my runners JUST IN CASE I feel so inclined. So I also need a set of workout clothing. Accessories, makeup, hair crap.

Feel free to message me if I'm forgetting something essential. Like Imodium, I'm told to make sure that's in the suitcase.

Point being, more than will fit in one suitcase which is where having time to think of this has paid off.

I'm going to take all of mine and Jeff's stuff, divide it out equally between our two cases, and pack them that way. This works for a couple reasons: if one of our pieces gets lost then we still have stuff in the other. The other plus is I get away with more stuff since he's FOR SURE not taking as much crap as me.

It's quite brilliant really. Not quite as brilliant was blabbing my super secret plan on my blog but I'm sure my husband just wants me to be happy. Right.

2014

It's been almost 7 months to the day since I've dusted off this old thing. Many times I've thought of it and just as many times I've brushed off that urge. See, I rarely fire up the 'ol laptop anymore and blogging from the iPad? No thanks.

But what the hell, it's a new year! What better impetus to get this started? And plus, it's been in the back of my head since my grandma told me she loves to hear my take on our crazy life and family. I love that she enjoys my words :)

I'm pretty sure I had some goals for the past year but damned if I can remember them. Go back and look them up in the blog, you say? Hmm, if a girl is too lazy to open her laptop (that lives 5 feet away from where she plants her ass on a daily basis), do you REALLY think she's going to go to the trouble of looking up archives. Really.

But for THIS year, here's what I've got.

-continue with the running and get some bigger numbers in this year.
-sign up and run half-marathons in May, August, and tentatively October.
-commit to a racing series called 5 Peaks (quite excited for this one!)
-put myself in more time-outs so that I can be more patient with the kids.
-paint all the rooms in the top level of our house by the end of the year (heyyyy Jeff, SURPRISE!!)
-STOP worrying about what I'll look like on the beach in Mexico because I'm pretty sure I'll be too drunk to give a shit.

So there's the list, half running-obsessed, mixed with a bit of vanity, bloggy manipulation, and hopeful self-improvement.

With that said, I'm off to start on that first resolution!

Mr. Sensitive

I write a lot about how wild my kids can be, I'm sure at times I paint a picture of these hooligans who run around unchecked and uncaring of things and people around them. So I thought I'd share what happened tonight.

It was time to come in and I called out the window for the boys to start cleaning up their toys and then it was bath time. As usual, Josh zipped around the yard hauling all the crap to the shed while Nicky kept on playing on his scooter. 

I decided that it was time to reward Josh's good behavior with a little treat. Who knows if that's good parenting or not, we go on instinct over here. 

So I took the treat outside and crouched down in front of Josh and thanked him for putting the toys away and here's a treat and blah blah blah. As you can guess, immediate tears on Nicks part. 

Obviously I explained to him that I asked them both to put the toys away and only Josh listened and that's why Josh got a chocolate. I told him that if he helped next time then he'd get a treat too. I don't think he really heard me though, over his tears. 

Well, as we come inside what does Josh do but break his little chocolate in half and give some to Nicky. When did this kid get so compassionate? 

Either way, I'd consider that a parenting win. And hopefully next time they're both asked to help, the memory of his disappointment is enough to prompt a certain someone to pitch in.

The Wiggles.

A benefit to having small kids is that they're the perfect weight for walking on your back. C'mon we all do it right? Force our children into being makeshift deep-tissue masseuses. You know it.

Anyway, today I was trying my best to cajole Josh into walking on my back. Hell, I even gave him permission to jump! I EVEN tried to play him and Nicky against each other. 

Me: Oh that's fine Josh, Nicky will be the good boy and walk on mommy's back.

Nicky: Um no, I don't want to.

.......

Sonofabitch. 

Anyway, so I asked them why they always walked on daddy's back but they never wanted to walk on mine. They were brutally honest.

Josh: Your legs are wiggly. Your bum is wiggly too. I fall over like this (demonstrating walking on a waterbed)

Nicky: Ya and your back is wiggly too!

Thanks kid, I suppose I can add BACK FAT onto my list of flaws?

In other, totally unrelated news, we're 26 days away from the big move. Last time I posted we were 52 days out. Time is going so so fast, less than 4 weeks to go!

50 days countdown.

There it is, our new house! Isn't it pretty? 

This whole house selling/buying process has gone pretty fast once I think about it. We got an offer on our house after 24 days on the market, we went and looked at houses the following week and made our own offer right away. This was the third house we looked at (although not the last).

I really didn't think that we'd end up with a newer house. I've always been drawn to older houses with loads of character but unfortunately the community we're moving to just does not have that kind of market in our price range. The ONE house we looked at that was more than 10 years old was a dump. For real. 

But this house grabbed both of us even before we knew it was the house we were looking at, when we were across the street at the 7-11. I would have been devastated if this deal had fallen through. It has more of a personality than any other house we looked at, with neat details that make it unique to us. 

We're all very excited to move. Our little house has seen a lot of life lived in it over the last 6 years and it was perfect for us when we bought it. Family with one kid? Ideal. Family with 3 kids? We've maxed out our space big time. We're bursting at the seams! 

So the countdown is on! Knowing that it's ours is making bumping into each other at the kitchen counter a bit easier to bear. It's making listening to the kids fighting alldaylong a bit more 'musical'. It's making running down to the pantry in the basement because there's not enough room upstairs, no big deal. Having my clothes in the kids closet because there's no room in ours? Soon enough we'll have a walk in closet. 

I can hardly wait!!!

Technology

A couple months ago the pinging of incoming text messages prompted me to start paying attention to our cell phone bill. I was blown away when there was a combined 1500 texts sent and received that month.

Taking my disbelief to Facebook, I was assured that 1500? A mere drop in the bucket of teenage excess. That was, like, a weeks worth for most of my friends little darlings.

So the next month I looked again and it had doubled to roughly 3300 combined. Color me shocked yet again. I mean, I know he has a little girlfriend and she lives in another province and THANK GOD they're not phone talkers and costing me hundreds of dollars a month. But really?

Except it seems he's trying to break his own records on a monthly basis. This month I just had to laugh. I don't even know how he has time to do anything else except text. And read texts. And how can he keep up with the constant texting? And ALSO he must have his phone on vibrate because I haven't heard it much more than normal.

7090 received.
7077 sent.

I'll take comfort in the fact that he seems to be a pretty balanced kid? He gives as good as he gets?

Just by the basic math, he's reading AND sending nearly 500 texts A DAY. Mind boggling. By comparison I had 232 for the whole month. I am FAR from cool apparently.

I also have to wonder if there's some hidden actual limit to this 'unlimited' text plan. Because that's some serious value for our money!

I can't help comparing texting to the note writing of my youth. We wrote notes like nobodies business. Hate notes, love notes, notes making plans to buy weed at lunch time, notes talking about boys, notes that made no sense. One of us has a notebook somewhere of one New Years Eve and our drug-induced ramblings that we thought were SO WITTY.

So I'll not begrudge my child his texting. I totally get it.

Temper temper

There's nothing quite as cute as a pissed off 3 year old. They get mad over the weirdest things. Like today, and bananas, and bear paw cookies.

Me: *making a big show* here you go Nicky. Here's your bear paw because you ate all your bananas.
Josh: where's mine mom?
Me: you didn't eat your banana. It's just sitting there. Do you want me to cut it up?
Josh: sure.

So I cut it up and set the bowl in front of him. He's eyeing Nicky up like a hawk and Nicky is making a production out of enjoying his cookie. Meanwhile I sit down across the table from them and flip open my computer, keeping an eye on Josh.

Of  course he tries to be stealthy and sneak his waiting cookie off the counter.

Me: sit your butt down and eat your banana first.
Josh: *stomping over and sitting down* UGH. I hate bananas.
Me: whatever.
Josh: I'm going to squish you with this table.

He proceeds to spend the next 60 seconds trying to push the table into me. He's a strong little bugger and probably could do it. IF I hadn't been keeping it in place, that is. While trying not to laugh.

Finally he gave up and sat looking at his banana with disgust. Suddenly he grabbed his cup of juice and I had visions of washing my floors and walls for the second day in a row. I grabbed it quickly.

Me: what the hell? Settle down buddy.
Josh: I. Want. To. Drink. It.
Me: really?
Josh: yes.

So I cautiously gave it to him and he slammed that sucker back like he was at a frat party. It was IMPRESSIVE. I think he's going to be trouble in about 15 years.

Josh: NOW can I have my bear paw?
Me: no.
Josh: you don't love me.

And then he took off to parts unknown to pout. Of course, Nicky saw this as his opportunity to try and scam the left over cookie. They're nothing if not true to personality.

But seriously, it was more cute than anything. I just wanted to scoop him up and kiss his little scrunched up face. Aw.

Winning

Liam: *looking at the school website* Oh good, I don't have any homework.
Me: half your teachers don't even update that anyway, I don't trust it.
Liam: well I do have LA homework but that's a project I need the computer for.
Me: you can use mine.
Liam: no I'll just use my dads.
Me: fine.

***

Me: do some reading from your Social textbook anyway.
Liam: *showing me the textbook* it's just these pages that he mentioned us reading.
Me: um, what's that sheet sticking out?
Liam: oh. That? That's nothing. Don't worry about it.
Me: *grabbing it* look it's a worksheet! This is perfect, you can do this instead of just reading pages.
Liam: that's from, like, a long time ago. It's really old.
Me: weird, you wrote today's date in the corner.
Liam: COME ON.

***

Liam: *muttering to himself* I don't even know what pages to find these answers...did you hear me?
Me: *batting eyelashes* oh you're talking to me now? I wasn't sure.
Liam: snark snark, bitch moan and complain.
Me: can it with the attitude, look at the heading, and find it in the textbook.
Liam: I don't even know why you're making me do this. The teacher wants us to do this in class. This is SO UNFAIR.

Poor kid, he has a lot to learn about knowing when to just stop when he's ahead. We fought, I yelled, he listened, he did his homework, I regained my temper, he stomped downstairs. And then I made him clean his room.

Don't piss off your mother.

Clever Lads

How about a lesson in cunning? Lets call it 'The Small Child's Guide To Getting What You Want'.

1. Make sure you're in a very public place, with lots of people around. Preferably old ladies. A grocery store line up works perfectly.

2. Lock onto the prize. Candy usually works best in these cases, the jumbo size to make it all worth it.

3. Make sure you have your big brother on backup. He's not vital to the operation but it never hurts to ensure victory.

4. Hold out the jumbo size candy to your dad-Skittles in this case-and utter the following sentence:

"Daddy, I want to taste the rainbow" 

And on command:

"Ya dad, we want to taste the rainbow"

Cue "awwws" and smiles from the old ladies in line.

*It's important to have an audience.

5. Wait for the inevitable capitulation. No parent wants to look like the asshole that always says no when you're asking so adorably.

6. Be prepared to have a couple and then hand them over to your mother when you get home. They are, after all, her favorite candy too.

It's much more effective than a temper tantrum at the checkout. Just ask Jeff.

Conversations

Don't tell him I told you, but every once in a while there's a glimpse of the person my teenager will be once the hormones and moodiness have leveled off. 

I'm not saying today was one of those rare days, but the conversation made me smile regardless. That kid is so much like me, it's scary.

Liam: God mom, don't you think you went overboard a bit?

Me: Noooooo. In fact, I think I'll go buy a rug for the front door that says "ho ho ho, Merry Christmas" and then you can look at it every time you come home!

Liam: Ha. Ha. Ha.

Me: You're so ironic Liam.

Liam: I know right?

**Me rolling eyes SO HARD at that phrase, it's the most annoying ever and I have found myself spitting it out on more than one occasion**

Liam: You're weird.

Me: Don't say that! Hey, you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to decorate your room while you're at your dads this weekend. Tinsel, lights, a little tree, it'll be FUN. 

Liam: And then I'll tear it down.

Me: And then I'll put it back up and ground you. 

Liam: And then I'll tear it back down.

Me: And then I'll put it back up and take your gifts back.

Liam:...okay, you win.

So, while I'm not actually planning on decorating his room it's nice to know that if I did, he'd suffer through it for the sake of presents. 

Merry Christmas!

Little Big Ears

Conversations with my children are an endless source of amusement lately. They are what makes being a parent totally worth it, my kids are hilarious. Truly.

They also have big ears and even bigger mouths. We really have to watch ourselves around them now.

Example, as we're trudging to school this morning;

Nicky: I need to hold your hand for energy mom.
Me: just walk in front of me for this part. The people who live here are too (fucking, but I didn't say that out loud) lazy to shovel their sidewalk so there's not enough room.
Nicky: Oh they're lazy? That's what daddy called you.
Me: oh REALLY? Why did he say that?
Nicky: because you didn't wash the dishes.
Me: I see. When did he say that?
Nicky: When you were at work.

Of course I immediately texted Jeff and warned him about bitching in front of the kids. The fact that he called me lazy? I'm pretty sure he said that the same night he wrote really this really hard on the fridge pad:

"RINSE THE DISHES BEFORE YOU PUT THEM IN THE DISHWASHER"

(Only reason I knew he wrote that is because I saw them imprint of the words on the paper underneath. He wisely ripped that message up after he got over his fit of pique.)

We all have our limitations. He's a major hothead and I'm A-Okay with leaving a sinkful of dirty dishes for him to clean.

Anyway, point being! We're past the point of being able to talk freely and them not really understanding.

Also, he didn't deny calling me lazy. Shit. My cover has been blown.

Manipulation

I've hit upon parenting gold. I just have to figure out how to make it work for every possible scenario that might come up.

It's simple really; fear. The concept is nothing new, and here's how it played out today while we were waiting for our lemonseed poppy cupcakes to bake.

Nicky: if I have a drink of your coffee, will I DIE??
Me: of course not!
*he brings the mug almost to his lips*
Me: wait! It WILL kill you!
Nicky: what? It will KILL me?
Me: well, no not really. I was just kidding.
Nicky: well what will happen if I drink it?
*thinking quickly*
Me: you'll stop growing. You won't grow as big as Liam or Daddy.
Nicky: are you serious?
Me: I am.

And he slowly put the mug back on the table muttering something about how THAT was not a good thing.

Guys, it was so effective. And I didn't have to yell myself hoarse over him doing something that I didn't want him to do.

Win/win.

Kids are a blessing.

My teenager did two things on Sunday that guaranteed his life for the next month at least. I say that because the teen years are WAY HARDER than toddlers any day. Teenagers can make you so frustrated that it's a good thing they prefer to shut themselves up in their rooms. Because if they were in your face like a toddler, they'd die.

Maybe that's just my house? My teenager? Is mine weird?

Anyway, he hugged me. Voluntarily. With witnesses! For a boy who was so attached to me that he forced me to carry him well into kindergarten, and who held my hand till at least grade 2, he hates hugs.

And then he thanked me for giving him life. That one came out of left field, even though it was Thanksgiving. You see, usually he lives in a boat named LIAM, floating on the sea of ME, way out on the planet called SELF INDULGENCE.

I had to wipe a tear from my eye.

I kid. He's not THAT bad. Actually he's much the same as I was as a teenager. I'm fond of telling him that too. He LOVES when I tell him that.

Now, if he could only wake up to his damn alarm clock so he didn't spend the whole morning stomping around because he's slept in. If that happened I could maybe see the end of the hell that has been the last 4 years with his moodiness.

(well, the last 13 if I'm being completely honest. That kid was born with WAY more estrogen than I was expecting for a boy)

Of course then we're going to get into smoking and drinking and skipping school and drugs and ohmygod why does anyone have kids.

And then I get to do it all again with pretty much two at the same time.

I'm so glad we stopped at three.

I get no love.

I made my way downstairs because it was FAR too quiet for my liking and already today they had demolished a set of blinds. I can't leave them to their own devices for too long after all.

I was eating my lunch in the next room when the blinds thing happened, incidentally. Not napping, or on another floor, or anything like that. They're quick little buggers.

The basement was immaculate and they were both playing with cars in the playroom. Aw. It was a sweet picture, one of those ones where your heart swells and you feel like maybe you're doing something right.

Me: you guys look cozy, are you having fun?
Nicky: oh ya, oh ya.
Josh: Nicky's my best friend!
Me: that's awesome. Nicky, who is your best friend?
Nicky: it's not you mom. 
Me:....okay?
Nicky: my best friend is Liam.

Wtf? He's not even here and if he WAS, he'd most likely be yelling at his brothers to get out of his room. I'll have to remember this in 5 years when they're beating the hell out of each other for some reason or another.

Not by the hair of MY chinny-chin-chin.

I contemplated taking a picture to illustrate. Only thing is, I also have big pores and wasn't in the mood to highlight them. Another product of the Foote family gene pool.

I'm talking about chin hairs, people. And from what I've been able to tell, it runs in the family.

First was my mom with her mega-long thing that she was trying to grow out like a dreadlock. Seriously. She thought it was hilarious.

Then my sister mentioned she had one. I think. I may just be inventing that to not feel so alone, and I have an awful memory so I'll have to wait and see if she confirms*. But anyway, I'm pretty sure she had one too. She probably cried like a baby plucking it out.

And then a few years ago Jeff started laughing and pointed out that I was the proud new owner of my very own. Blech, was gone super duper fast. I found another one this morning, which is what brought this on. They sprout up a couple times a year. Again, blech.

Thing is, our genes are really strong. Like, mega strong in that you could pick the Footes out of a crowd of 500 people. And I feel a real responsibility to my female Foote cousins, so that they can keep an eye out for this. I betcha my aunts get them. It's a family secret. A revolting, but strangely fascinating, family secret.

Chin hairs, big pores, hairy toes (oops, let another one slip). Something has to balance the bright and sunny Foote smile right?

Consider this my PSA to you Chelsea, Brittany, Melissa, Stephanie, Brooke, Raeanna, and Kayleigh. You're welcome.

*She did NOT, in fact, get a hair on her chin. It was on her arm, and it's called a CALCIUM hair. And OMG please tell her that I DID NOT just write that for 20 people to read on the internet. Yes, I was yelled at and threatened until I cleared that up. She would probably have preferred me not to say she had a long hair on her arm but we're going for entertainment here guys. And I still maintain that she cried like a baby plucking it out.

Countdowns

I posted on yesterday on Facebook that I was starting a countdown for my upcoming trip to Las Vegas. This trip has been in talks for...oh about 10 months or so and the fact that it's 59 days away is super exciting! I should mention that it's a stagette for my oldest (one of them anyway) and closest (again, one of them) friends. Lest anyone think that it's just an excuse to have an uninterrupted 4 days away from my family. Or something like that...;)

The thought of a countdown, and how close we are to ripping it up Hangover style (seriously. Vegas should prepare) reminded me of how I was planning on meeting my weight loss goal by then. I'm really not anywhere near it. And that's taking into account the muscle I've built up from being active and getting in shape.

Because I'm actually really proud of myself at how far I've come. I can run for a solid hour, with just a couple 60 second breaks in there. That is MILES from where I started, when even thinking about running for 3 minutes freaked me the hell out. And as anyone who runs can tell you, getting into the zone and feeling that adrenaline rush makes you feel like a rockstar. It's addicting.

But I digress, because my love affair with running is NOT the point of this post. No, the thought of the countdown has prompted me to see if I can give up fast food for the next 59 days. Because as much as I'm eating FAR healthier now, I still have a weakness for Subway, Edo, McDonalds. Wendys. A&W, the list goes on and on. Quick Wok. YUMMO.

It doesn't help that I work evenings in a mall with a foodcourt. You know, evenings...that time of day when you eat dinner? And how many times have I not eaten the dinner I made for my family because I'm working that night and can just grab something there. It's ridiculous. I'm pretty sure the foodcourt is the reason my scale has stalled.

So that's the deal. No more fast food. If we hit up K-Days this year I am going to be in torturous hell. I mean, have you ever smelled fair food? We can see the fireworks and hear the live show from our house, and I'm pretty sure I can smell the mini-donuts too. Should I give myself ONE cheat day? We'll just have to see how it all plays out.

So countdowns:

To Vegas.........59 days
No fast food......2 days

Adventures in Cookie Land

I've gathered all my ingredients, mixed most of them together, and am at the point of pouring the flour mixture into the egg/sugar mixture.

Nicky: What are you doing mom?
Me: (oh shit. COME ON I WAS ALMOST DONE) Just mixing together some stuff to make cookies.
Josh: Can I dooooo ittttttt???
Me: I....guess so. Okay fine, but be careful please.

Reluctantly, I hand Josh a cup of oats to pour into the VERY BIG, hard to miss mixing bowl. Which he promptly pours onto the counter.

Me: (breath. 1..2..3..) Oh no honey, you missed. Here let me clean it up.
Josh: I can dooooo ittttt.

And the oats that were on the counter are now on the floor.

Me: Okay you know what buddy, let mommy do this part.
Nicky: I can get it in mom, let me try.
Me: Here you go, just be very careful-oh, nice save! Amost had another mess! (rolling eyes, *&%#$)

A couple minutes and a few mishaps later, I am dropping blobs of of oatmeal and butterscotch yumminess onto the cookie sheet.

Nicky:(all wide eyes and high-pitched voice) OH HEY. Look at that MOM. It's like a COOKIE on that pan. Are WE making COOKIES????
Josh: I eat it?
Me: Yup guys, that's what we were doing. Making cookies! We can eat them after they've cooled down.

15 minutes later, after dancing around the kitchen and singing about cookies and Tinkerbell, we pull the greatly anticipated cookies out of the oven.

Me: Don't touch! They're hot you'll burn yourself.
Nicky and Josh: Okay mommy.

And what do you think happened next?

Josh: That's HOT! You no say it's HOT!
Nicky: Yes you did mommy, you did tell us it's hot. Josh you are not a good listener.
Me: (muttering to myself) Do I really sound like such a know it all?

....So, I know lots of parents like to bake with their kids. It's a 'bonding' and 'learning' experience. However, I find it to be a big pain in the ass. It takes double the time, creates 4 times the mess, and the little hooligans run off with all my measuring cups and spoons. I still do it though, because I'm a 'good' mom and it makes them happy.

We're creating memories over here, yo.

Oh Mr. Sun!

Nothing makes a mom appreciate summer weather like a rainy day. Or, as I like to call them, the longest days ever.

This morning, still snug in my bed with the little ones talking to their dad as he was getting ready for work, I had no idea what was in store for me beyond the curtains. No idea that I'd be cursing Jeff with every step I took in the pouring rain that he had to remind Nicky that today was a school day. No idea that I'd be giving up my precious umbrella to the kids in the stroller so they could be just that little bit drier. As I got more and more wet.

It was a toss up between listening to Nicholas whine all day about school or walking the ten minutes there and ten minutes back in soggy weather. For me it was a no brainer. I knew I'd have the afternoon to listen to the whining to go outside anyway, and I knew I had to save my sanity. Off we went.

So school time has come and gone, we've had lunch, watched a favorite movie, played hide and seek, drawn a bit, they've played on their own, fights have been broken up...and it's only 2:30. Days like this, I really wish they still napped.

Longest day ever.