Monday, January 25, 2016

June on Facebook

I thought the kids would enjoy a jaunt at the Salt Flats. This is pretty much how it went - after I told The Kid not to put the salt in her mouth and she did it anyway.

When you buy a new shirt and realize it kind of makes you look like an inmate. ‪#‎iamnotanescapee‬  ‪#‎iwantedtolooklikethis‬  ‪#‎iwouldnotdowellinprison‬

The best part of visiting your aging mother? The opportunity to partake in the local gym's geriatric exercise class! We did The Twist (engage those abdominal muscles, ladies...and random man wearing swim trunks), danced to Lola (the show girl), and did a bicep track to RESPECT. I highly doubt it could have been more awesome.

Off the airplane and finally tucking babies into bed around 2 am this morning. Both kids thoughtfully slept until almost 6:30. Because apparently sleep is way, waaaaaay overrated.

You know, before children, I was easily the fastest, most efficient luggage packer I'd ever met. I could be gone for weeks with nothing but a carry-on, which I could pack in 10 minutes or less. Now, not so much. ‪#‎luggageForThree‬ ‪#‎CanICheckMyKids‬ ‪#‎NoWeDontNeedTheKitchenSink‬

Out of all the Disney movies out there, The Kid has chosen The Hunchback of Notre Dame as her new favorite. She's been singing about hell fire and damnation all morning. Because we like to promote cheerfulness

Had a dream where I was supposed to be dating a really skinny man. When I told The Kid about it:
Me: I wanted to snuggle up to him, but he was nothing but bones.
The Kid: Yeah. You're going to want a handsome, strong, manly man like Nicholas Peters.

I just had a fifteen minute conversation wherein the other participant dropped so many swear words, I'm not entirely sure what we were talking about.

Did tricep pushups at the gym today ON PURPOSE. The best part about it was when the huge guy on the machine next to me said, "Ooooo, get it girl!" Probably because my form was so outstanding.

From The Kid this morning, "Mama! Don't open the door! It's Monday out there!"

Because when there's a pirate party, we take it seriously. And we are always Tinkerbell. Because someone has to have the fairy dust available at all times. Obviously.

Nothing makes me happier than listening to Husband and The Kid discuss things that are important to her. Like hair accessories. Then, they arrange her hair, he tells her she looks beautiful, she looks in the mirror and says, "You know, you're right!"

Dear My Children,
I only have two hands and one body and I can only exist in one space at any given time. Whining about this limitation of mine is getting you no where. However, contrary to popular belief, your father also has two capable hands. I promise you that he knows how to read, open things, reach things, fix things, clean things, hold things, put things on, and pretend to be things. Really.
Your Mother

After the gym:
Me: Man, I smell bad.
The Kid: I could have told you that like two years ago.

Assessment: If I'm going to continue to do free weights, I'm going to have to have some skin tight Under Armor gear to fit in. More good news: If you use the benches in the second row, the gym mirrors make you appear at least 20 pounds slimmer.

The weight loss challenge is now over and I am officially down 15 pounds (of course, I gained five at the beginning, so maybe that only counts as 10). The good news: According to my BMI, I am no longer categorized as morbidly obese, just regularly obese. WINNING! Who says that good things don't happen to people who are forced to eat broccoli?! PS I'm lobbying the CDC to change the word "obese" to "fluffy". Because I'd much rather be regularly fluffy.

You know what's awesome? When you're getting ready for bed and you look over to see your dishwasher spewing gallons and gallons of water onto your kitchen floor. Just outstanding.

Dear My Children,
It's ok to sleep beyond 6 am. You will not miss anything worthwhile. Seriously.
Your Mother

Dear Vince DiCola,
Today I bless your name and thank you for your outstanding work on the Rocky IV soundtrack. As it stands, the War and Training Montage tracks from that album are probably the only thing that kept me from quitting during my (very short) workout today. 
Your Biggest Fan,

Had a ten minute conversation with a friend today wherein I insisted that the stuff you put on your skin to avoid chaffing while running is called AstroGlide. She kept asking me if I was sure that's what it's called and I kept saying, "YES! AstroGlide!" least it's the same premise. Kind of.

Finally got the guts to venture into the free weight section of the gym. Husband was in fact correct that no one tried to eat me. However, when one guy asked me what I was listening to and I replied, "Lady Antebellum", he appeared less than impressed. I knew I should have said Vanilla Ice!

Alright. I did ANOTHER thing I said I'd NEVER do. I bought a pair of patterned leggings (camo, no less), and wore them in PUBLIC, displaying my Arnold Schwarzenegger thighs (although maybe a teeny bit less muscular) to one and all. And here's a secret - they're so comfortable, I didn't even care.

Ward Coates, my former high school track coach was fond of telling a story about some University of Montana track team members who used to go out and voluntarily run 600s with their own stop watch. Every time I heard that story, I wanted to punch him in the throat thinking, "Who on earth would torture themselves on purpose?!" Fast forward 20, on the treadmill, pacing myself through a voluntary workout, literally running as fast as I can and timing myself doing it. Ward Coates - so full of wisdom.

According to my Fitbit, I take a lot of steps but never actually go anywhere. An analogy for my life? Perhaps.

Because sometimes when your older sister insists on playing Rapunzel, you are pressed into service as Pascal. In a tutu. Because if Pascal were a human, that's what he'd wear. Obviously.

Just bought these shoes because I thought they were so cute. The Kid says, "Mama, those Hamburgler shoes are awesome." ‪#‎mcdonaldsfashion‬‪#‎justneedamask‬

Took The Kid to a kid's Zumba class today at the comminity center and when we left, this, "Mama, I don't think I can do that again. That was brutal."

Self-imposed treadmill HIIT workout = maybe not the most fun I've ever had. The good news: an eight-minute mile (which I only ran for one minute wherein I felt like I was going to hurl) feels almost cheetah-esque to me.

Had a dream that I was back in college and took a dance class where the final exam was choreographing your own dance. I did the Macarena. And the professors were all like, "That is seriously the best original dance we've ever seen." And I was all like, "I KNOW! I made it up all by myself!"

I'm pretty sure I smell like a wino who fell in a flower patch. The good news: apple cider vinegar and lavender work on a sunburn (I'm buying new sunscreen - stupid sports crap doesn't work).

The Kid calls popsicles "ice lollies". Because apparently she's British.

The Tater has reached the stage in his development where I am clearly marked as "his". Heaven help anyone else who tries to touch me.

Someone at the gym today asked me if I'm a former power lifter. Um. Do I look like a former power lifter? Yeah, not so much.

Twelve years ago today, I returned home from my full-time church mission to Sapporo, Japan. Bless my ugly sister missionary jumper and frizzy hair (it still looks like that). Up until I had kids, that was the most difficult, growth-inducing 19 months of my life. Two Sapporo winters on a bike - and I totally only biffed it once. Or twice.

You know what's awesome? Not sleeping all night because you're sick, then having a sick baby who hurls all over you right as soon as you get dressed for the day. And then having a four-year-old whose only apparent desire is to study said throw up with her head lamp.

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