Thursday, August 26, 2010

What You Will Do to Get Your Keys out of a Public Toilet

I heard once that Murphy's Law states that "anything dropped in the bathroom will land in the toilet."

I suppose that this statement is even more true if you are locked in a Pepto-Bismol colored vestibule with barely enough room to turn around and shut the door without squatting over the crapper.

I had no pockets in my gym shorts and was juggling my car key, an Ipod, water bottle and a towel. As I set these contents on the back toilet, I watched helplessly as my one and only SUV key slid off the back of the tank and into the toilet.

The toilet appeared to be fairly clean, thankfully. Quite honestly, it looked a hell of a lot cleaner than any of my toilets at home, some of which look like diarrhea fest 2010 occurred in them. Hey, I have TOLD you guys I am not Suzy home maker.

I stuck my hand in and grabbed them, feeling a hopeless resignation. At least it wasn't the Ipod.

I had barely made it to the bathroom in the first place. I was on about 2.50 miles on the treadmill before the painful rumbling in my belly forced me to hit "Stop" and go search for the nearest bathroom.

I guess I am happy I didn't run outside today, or I would be squatting in bushes. I have heard "real runners" sometimes do this during races. I don't know if I could do it. I would rather implode.

I was so annoyed, because I had completed a successful, albeit messy, four mile run on Tuesday. I was working toward it again today. I was half way through my This American Life podcast when I realized that the four miles weren't going to happen.

Which is how I found myself in the stall designed for an Oompah Loompah, not a 5'9" big boned girl who had just dropped her keys in the toilet, reached her hand in and fished them out. I didn't want to wipe my dripping hand on my shorts so I shook it off a bit and gingerly peeled (as fast as I could...the stomach pain was relentless) my soaked workout clothes off and sat down.

I noticed then that there was no toilet paper. NO TOILET PAPER. Seriously...I pulled up my soaking wet underpants and shorts and waddled over to another Ooompah Loompah stall and sat there for a minimum of ten minutes, listening to a vapid discussion about cheer leading. Oh, God. It was so fascinating, I just about pooped myself. Wait a minute....

I usually would care if someone noticed that I was in a stall for about ten minutes, but I didn't even care today. I was too disappointed that I missed my four mile run today, by a mere mile and a half. I got on the miserable elliptical machine and did fifteen minutes and listened to the screaming children being dropped off and picked up at the nursery.

My child had screamed and was a snotty, wild mess when I dropped her off today, too.

I suppose this is what one would call an "unsatisfactory gym experience" day. Tomorrow WILL be better. I am now training for this. I will write more about it the future. I now mean business.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Chris is Awesome

Yes, he is!!!!!

He is the most awesome husband ever!

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Dingleberries and Sucker Punches

I'm sitting here in my bedroom, the refuge.

Sounds of canned farts and "umphs" are wafting in from the family room. Someone's nose is inevitably being broken from being nailed point blank by the Sucker Punch on "Wipeout."

Along with school starting, I am reminded of another welcome effect of Fall: a new television season starting and no more Wipeout. It's currently on a hundred times per week. I am SURE of it.

I am feeling like a bit of a failure today, for a great number of reasons. I won't go in to all of them here...just a few.

I was on fire last week with my running. I really was. I bought those Under Armour clothes and everything. I was tooting along with my 3.25 miles and inserting this fact into everyday conversations with people, like the check out clerks at Publix.

"Hi, how are you today," the clerk would ask.

"I am great! Fantastic," I would say, enthusiastically. "I'm training for a 5k, then a marathon, and today...TODAY, I ran 3.25 miles."

Okay, so I didn't say it exactly like that, but I did work it into conversations and Facebook updates. I know, totally annoying.

But I completely recognize that I am one of those annoying people who do that, and in a way, I think it makes it all right. Don't you agree? It's the people who DON'T know that they are annoying, who are the MOST annoying. I recognize it and own it. I think my husband would disagree....but I think he is one of those annoying people who doesn't KNOW he is annoying yet. He thinks he is cool. So...he sort of doesn't count.

I digress.

But my running THIS week? Oy.

PSYCH, to the chubby jiggly wannabe posing in the overpriced Under Armour gear.

The two times I have actually MADE it to the gym this week, I have limped along to two miles. I then came home and ate a bottle of blue cheese (mixed with some honest to goodness real crumbled blue cheese chunks for good measure) with garlic and cheese Texas Toast croutons mixed in.

OR, tomato soup (which isn't too bad, except I have high blood pressure).

OR, three pieces of fried chicken and three helpings of mashed potatoes with gravy last night when my mamma came and helped out with the kids.

I stepped on the scale this morning and I shouldn't have done that. You know that voice that is in your head that tells you not to do something in which you are in the process of fixin' to do?

It goes something like, "No! No! Stop it! Don't do it! Don't! Don't! Don't! Don't do it! Nothing good will come of it! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Then you do it anyway? And you are all like "Ah, damnnnnnnnnnn, that voice was so right. She is always right, nothing good came of it. I feel like a piece of shit now."

I think that voice? Her name is Willpower. It is something which I have zero of . I mean...this chick tries, but I blow her off, like 99% of the time. I don't even know why she says anything to me. Dumb beeeyotch.

I heard her all during pregnancy. She was like, "NO! Don't eat that pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia! Don't do it! Don't! Don't!" And I did. And it was all bad and I gained sixty pounds.

So, the other failure I have had today is that I saw a palmetto bug ~ a freaking COCKROACH ~ if you will, in my house this morning.

At first I though it was a dingleberry that fell off of the dog's butt because I had just taken him out and he had taken a crap.

The dog was super interested in it, and I was like, "Oh, damn. I have to pick that piece of shit up off of the carpet. Gross."

Then the piece of shit MOVED.

Then I put my glasses on.

It was a cockroach!!!!!

And I was really not happy for several reasons, the first being that we have a pest control service that is SUPPOSED to be taking care of these things for us. I know that they can't control everything, but since they have come, we have had an influx of some wicked little urchins called "earwigs," which are apparently harmless, but they are crazy ugly.

We have also had some ants. And some spiders. And Maggie has woke up with bites on her legs, which I am not 100% convinced were not there before she went to bed, but still.

So, the pest control service is not doing the job to the best of the ability that I believe that they should. We should see NO pests. ESPECIALLY not a cockroach.

Another reason I am not happy about this is that I am actually striving to be a little bit better about cleaning up. I am cleaning up dishes, taking trash out, cleaning up floors. I have about five different vacuums in my possession and I use them fairly regularly, inside and outside of my house, AND I change the bags in them and/or dump the contents (in the case of the shop vac) quite often. So, cockroaches are unacceptable.

I told Chris about it when he called to see how the children were behaving (another source of feeling like a failure). He echoed my thoughts on how happy he was that the pest control service was coming out tomorrow, as he had called them yesterday about the earwigs and the ants.

"And I am really upset about the cockroach," I continued, "because you know I have been trying to keep things cleaner since we got the dog."

There was silence. SILENCE.

Which leads me to believe that he doesn't share my thoughts on this and doesn't make me feel good.

My bed is feeling really super comfortable and I think a nap may be in order. There are no more farting noises. Wipeout is over; Shaq Vs. is now on. Another summer winner.

Dear God, I will weep with joy when school starts next week. I don't know how homeschool moms do it. I am hiding in my bedroom right now, emotionally broken and bleeding, and it has been not even three months since school let out in June.

But I won't complain about this topic anymore because my husband tells me that everyone has "gotten it" by now that they drive me nuts. I just will re-iterate my gratitude for the public school system.

Nap time out.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Jenny McCarthy and Inappropriate Pictures

Tonight, my 15 year old son suddenly blurted out, "Mom! Jenny McCarthy is HOT."

I immediately thought of the book cover in which she cradled a watermelon sized belly. The book that discussed mucous plugs, epidurals and childbirth classes. I thought about all of the autism campaigns over the years with her cute little blond bob, cheesin' it with Jim Carrey. She's cute. She's a mom.

Most importantly, to a 15-year-old, she should be considered OLD. She is, like, MY age.

"Jenny McCarthy," I asked.

"Yeah," he flipped his Justin Bieber-ish hair. "She's hot."

What the heck.

I dismissed it. I dismiss a lot of what my kids say. I'll admit it. I shouldn't, but I do. Unless they say something really unique and precocious, it's often met with an "Uh, huh," and it's in one ear; out the other.

I forgot about the Jenny McCarthy comment until I found these tonight when I was bored on WWTDD.COM.

He was supposed to be syncing his Ipod.

Monday, August 16, 2010

What? More Pictures??!

Whoa! More pictures! "What's up with the pictures," you ask.

Well, about a year ago, Chris let Maggie play with our digital camera. I KNOW, right? Predictably, she threw it and it shattered into a million pieces.

He further made the problem worse by trying to fix it himself and unscrewing those itsy bitsy little screws to see if he could "see what the deal was." I KNOW, right?

So, we have been without a camera for about a year. That is, until I took the initiative to order one online.

Knowing nothing about cameras, I chose one very scientifically.

I knew that Ashton Kutcher was the spokesperson for this particular model. I am not a huge fan of Ashton Kutcher, nor do I think he is "all that," but I am easily manipulated and swayed; a marketing/advertising company's wet dream.

If it is good enough for Ashton Kutcher, it is good enough for me.

When Chris got the order confirmation email, he asked, "What kind of camera did you get?"

"I don't know. It's a digital one, a Nikon."

"What's the pixel, blah blah blah," he asked. It was a bunch of technical crap. I had no idea what he was talking about. I just wanted a camera.

"It is the one on t.v. that Ashton Kutcher is selling."

I don't think he was too happy with me. But, you know. We needed a new camera. We were missing important events in our childrens' lives that you just can't capture with the Iphone camera. I took a leap. It was a blind leap.

So, here we are with our new camera. I'm taking pictures of everything. Including, apparently, raccoon turds in my back yard.

My neighbors already think I am little off...taking pictures of turds probably isn't helping.

In our cul de sac, we have New Jersey people, New Yorkers and people from Connecticut. And Colombia. I suppose they have seen it all. is me. On our way up to Jacksonville.

Maggie pulled this book off of Chris' shelf at work.
Ragnar! He is 30 pounds now...same as the 2 year old! He's a sweet boy...great temperment. Awesome addition to our family.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Sid the Science Kid and Chicken Nuggets

I am currently parked in my comfortable arm chair watching one of more annoying television shows in the universe: Sid the Science Kid.

I could say a lot about this show. Maggie likes it. I don't.

I don't like how all of the kids' hair looks like worms. Or how the kids' "voices" are adult voices or act like they need to be on medication. Or how teacher Susie pronounces "incline planes" or "pulleys."

I'm sitting here because I am too lazy to get up. I need a refill on my coffee. Yep, too lazy to even get up for that.

I had a moment of weakness and made chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes and corn for everyone last night. I licked the mashed potatoes saucepan clean, and shoveled in the leftover nuggets.

This morning, I very well may be suffering from a chicken nugget and mashed potato hang over.

It might not be so bad, except this is a gym day and I'm supposed to jog my 3.25 miles. If I can't even make it to my kitchen, how am I going to make it to the gym? Not promising.

As I look around, I am just a wee overwhelmed at all that I have to do. I started painting the powder room and didn't finish. Everything needs to be cleaned up. The bathrooms upstairs haven't been cleaned for over a month.

My oldest son comes home tomorrow.

He spends the summers up north and his room seemed surprisingly vacant this summer. I'm looking forward to having him home. His room, although clean, needs to be prepared today. The sheets and comforter need to be washed, as I'm sure they have collected the dust of disuse over the summer.

My mind is swimming with all that "needs" to be done today, and in the midst of my nugget hangover, it all seems overwhelming. It's just one of those days in which there is no direction. Ever have one of those?

I just need to start somewhere...

Like with another cup of coffee.

Monday, August 9, 2010

An Update on My Overpriced Under Armour Running Shorts

Just an update on those $29.99 Under Armour shorts I purchased on Saturday.

They don't really "wick away" crotch sweat, nor do they eliminate odor. Those are two things that I come to expect with jogging, so I can live with them. They are part of the "sport" of running (in my case, trudging), if you will.

What I couldn't live with was that after about two minutes, the inner thigh area of the shorts began to creep up.

I did a sneaky little wiggle to get them out, but after about twenty minutes, even the wiggle didn't work and the insides of the shorts were permanently wedged in my crotch area for the remainder of my jog. All 3.25 miles of it.

After about 2 miles, I was too miserable to care what the beefy dudes behind me thought. I was hating life.

I couldn't gather my momentum because my mind was obsessed with the Under Armour shorts and where they were stuck.

My inner thighs began rubbing together and started to chaff. (My body is just made like that...the inner thighs are a problem.) I began to fret, which brought on some bowel issues. I felt impending diarrhea. I felt like crying.

All brought on because of a pair of over priced shorts that, because they are now consider used, I can't take back. Sucks monkey butt.

I'll stick to my non-breathable Nike Basketball shorts, I suppose. I don't look like a "real" runner...I look like a wayward, out of shape WNBA player.

My old shorts are comfortable, and they cost me an entire dollar at Goodwill. Pretty ironic.

The Under Armour shorts ARE remarkably comfortable though. And I can wear them to the grocery store. I can APPEAR to be an athlete, even though I know I'm more of a poser.