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Archive for April, 2010

A conversation in the tub…

Rowan: Are mermaids real things?

Me: What do you think?

Rowan: I think they are made up.

Me: Yeah, you’re right. They are made up. {PROBABLY.}

Rowan: Are princesses real things?

Me: Yep. Princesses are real things.

Rowan: Why are you fibbing me!

Me: I’m not! Princesses are real! They’re people just like you and me, except, you know, more princessey…

Rowan: WHAT ARE THEIR PRINCESS NAMES, THEN?!

Me: Well…uh…{Wow, my knowledge of real princesses is spectacularly AWFUL in comparison to my knowledge of fake princesses…} there was Princess Diana…

Rowan: That’s not a real name!

Me: What! Yes it is!

Rowan: Where does she live then?

Me: UH…[%#^*^?????]…GRACE! There was a princess Grace!

Rowan: What was she princess of?

Me: Oh. {CRAP} I don’t know. {Pulls up google image search on phone} Here’s a picture of her.

Rowan: Where’s her crown?

Me: She left it at home. Do you believe me now?

Rowan: Hmm…{looks at me skeptically}…

*     *     *     *     *     *

A conversation in the car as we drive by the hospital my niece was born in…

Keaton: HI BABY MIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Baby Mia’s at her home now, silly.

Keaton: HI BABY MIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Fine. Hi baby Mia!

Keaton: Mama!

Me: Yep?

Keaton: {pause…} I want to have a baby one day!

Me: Oh! That’s great, Sir! You want to be a daddy?

Keaton: No I want to be a mommy and have a baby in the hospital!

Me:…&%#@^*, UH…..Look! The park!

Keaton: YAY!

Me: WHEW. {Awkward conversation with toddler about girl and boy parts avoided. Thank you, park. I owe you a drink.}

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My ankle?

Much better, thanks for asking!

The pain is completely gone now when I walk or go up stairs. In fact, beside from being a little achy first thing in the morning, I don’t even think about it unless I touch it (still tender) or look too closely at it (still a little swollen). So me being me, I really debated whether or not to go to the physical therapy appointment my doctor ordered for me to get my running gait evaluated. My ankle doesn’t hurt NOW, does it? Who cares if it would help prevent future injuries! I’ll just rub a little dirt on it and move on with my life. I DON’T WANNA GO.

Bill totally made me go.

And I’m really glad I did because if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be able to type the following sentence.

Diagnosis: LAZY ASS CHEEK.

And I am not even kidding you. The PT guy checked my ankle out and had me stand on one foot. When my balance proved to be more than a little sub-par he watched me walk down the hall a couple of times and then tested a few simple exercises out on me, asking me to let him know where I felt “the burn”. All the exercises should have utilized my glutes, in other words, I should have felt the pain in my butt. I did not. I felt it in my thighs, knees and calves.

He gave me a few more exercises aimed even more specifically at my glutes and he was able to “wake-up” my right butt cheek a little, but my left (the side of the hurt ankle) was all, LEAVE ME ALONE, SIR. I WAKE UP FOR NO ONE. The PT was thoroughly impressed with the stubbornness of my left butt cheek and I was all CAN WE TALK ABOUT MY ANKLE NOW AND LEAVE MY LAZY ASS OUT OF THIS?

No, of course we couldn’t he explained, because the most important asset a runner has is not in fact her legs, but her hips, including The Bootie. It is where most of the work in running should be done and because mine have apparently been out on a series of drinking lunches and afternoon siestas for a number of years, my thighs, knees and ankles have been picking up their slack. And my ankle got fed up and was all, I am sick of these working conditions, having to carry that good for nothing lazy ass along for the ride every time we go for a run, so it JUST QUIT WORKING.

Stupid uppity ankle. Now I have to get my butt cheek to wake up through a series of really annoying exercises that I look like a complete asshat doing. I started running because doing all the exercises to strengthen my core on Wii fit or the 30 day shred were not fun, and by not fun I mean OUCH. I didn’t really want to go there again. I just wanted to hit the trails and RUN. Running is so cool, man and I thought this was a way around all those terrible! evil! bicycling sit up do-jobs. Guess not, thanks for keeping me honest UNIVERSE, you big fat SOMETHING OR OTHER.

So.

I’m going to suck it up and do the stupid exercises. Despite my bitching I really do want to be a healthier me. The good news is that both the sports doc and the physical therapist checked out my new running shoes and declared them perfect for my feet and the PT cleared me for as much walking as my ankle can stand so we were finally able to go out on the first trail walks of the year, which has been just…well…

Bliss.

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Being able to have a camera with me at all times thanks to my iPhone has been great. The photos obviously don’t have the sharpness or color that my Canon produces but sometimes, particularly in this case, I like the blur better. I’ve also become a super fan of the Hipstomatic app, which makes photos look like this…

In other words, the app goes back in time to undo the advances made in photography over the last 40 years.

Whatever. It looks cool.

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We’ve had a revelation. Our child? Is gifted. On the fake drums.

I know. I KNOW.

We’ve already sent off to Julliard for an early entrance application.

PS~ I hope you’ll pardon the schmulz. We are sitting on the edge of a very daunting week in terms of evaluating our mighty, mighty 4 (and A Half, GOOD GOD don’t forget The Half, or you will be verbally LASHED) year-old and this video reminded us that sometimes you just need to laugh. And wail on fake instruments.

Also? I’m really sick of looking at my brother’s disfigured eyeball.

Don’t at all feel obliged to watch The Cute if you can’t handle it… instead, maybe watch this:

The DCFI and Bill. Dancin’ fools. Who knew?

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On this fateful day 40 years ago, a guardian angel strolled into the office to get his next assignment. The poor, unsuspecting sucker drew the case file of  a seemingly harmless 4 and a half pound infant boy born to adoring parents at the dawn of the 70’s and he’s been sweating bullets ever since.

This guy, I assure you, is the hardest working GA out there. Go ahead and ask him about the time his assignment hurled himself off a 60 foot cliff. Or the time a car t-boned him and he walked away with barely a scratch. Or the 3,645 close calls with numerous law enforcement in his youth, all for offences such as drinking beer on top of the public library or spray painting cop cars and let’s not even go into all the fireworks stories and how amazing it is that John still has use of not only both his thumbs but all of his fingers.

Last February, the poor Angel tried to take a coffee break while John was in Las Vegas. Not a smart move.

Eeeeewwwwww. This is what happens when you try to catch a cab in Vegas and you catch a curb instead. With your face.

My memories of my brother from my youth are fuzzy at best, due to the fact that he moved out of the house before I turned nine, but I can attest that he gave the best shoulder rides on planet earth- throwing me up on his shoulders, taking my hands in his and revving the engine vroom, vroom, shouting ATV 3-WHEELER! and then off like a shot through our house with my mom screaming behind him, praying that I wouldn’t be beheaded by the top of a low door frame.

My brother is your hyper-typical thrill seeking, risk taking boy. Let’s just say my mom loves him dearly but thanks the Lord every night he was her only boy. I would hope that in celebration of 40 years of hard, diligent work John would give the poor guardian angel a day off, but I’m going to guess not.

Happy 40, John!

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On this fateful day 40 years ago, a guardian angel strolled into the office to get his next assignment. The poor, unsuspecting sucker drew the case file of  a seemingly harmless 4 and a half pound infant boy born to adoring parents at the dawn of the 70’s and he’s been sweating bullets ever since.

This guy, I assure you, is the hardest working GA out there. Go ahead and ask him about the time his assignment hurled himself off a 60 foot cliff. Or the time a car t-boned him and he walked away with barely a scratch. Or the 3,645 close calls with numerous law enforcement in his youth, all for offences such as drinking beer on top of the public library or spray painting cop cars and let’s not even go into all the fireworks stories and how amazing it is that John still has use of not only both his thumbs but all of his fingers.

Last February, the poor Angel tried to take a coffee break while John was in Las Vegas. Not a smart move.

Eeeeewwwwww. This is what happens when you try to catch a cab in Vegas and you catch a curb instead. With your face.

My memories of my brother from my youth are fuzzy at best, due to the fact that he moved out of the house before I turned nine, but I can attest that he gave the best shoulder rides on planet earth- throwing me up on his shoulders, taking my hands in his and revving the engine vroom, vroom, shouting ATV 3-WHEELER! and then off like a shot through our house with my mom screaming behind him, praying that I wouldn’t be beheaded by the top of a low door frame.

My brother is your hyper-typical thrill seeking, risk taking boy. Let’s just say my mom loves him dearly but thanks the Lord every night he was her only boy. I would hope that in celebration of 40 years of hard, diligent work John would give the poor guardian angel a day off, but I’m going to guess not.

Happy 40, John!

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Last weekend Rowan and I decided to try our luck at container gardening so we picked up a few pots, some soil and a variety of seeds whose packages promised us they would grow- Even at the murderous thumbs of me, who seem to kill green things just by showing up in the same room. Yesterday Rowan ran in from our little deck where we had lined the plants up and said, “Mom! I just haved the most FABULOUS idea.” And before I could inquire what it was, or correct her grammar like the asshole I am, she grabbed this book, ran out to the deck and started reading:

An avid reader (read: memorizer) of all things Frog and Toad.

The story she read to our little plants was, of course, The Garden, wherein Frog gives Toad some seeds to start a garden and Frog plants them and impatiently awaits their arrival. I know she’s my kid so I’m incredibly biased, but it was the cutest dang thing you ever did see. So cute that I thought: I shall get my phone and record this for all the internets to see how superiorly adorable my girl-child is. And it IS a really cute video, except right in the middle of it Keaton had to use the bathroom so I told him to go ahead and go. Only I didn’t realize the bathroom door was closed and (THANK GOD FOR SMALL FAVORS) he still can’t open our doors. So out comes Keaton to let me know he can’t get in, but he’d already undressed so he was butt nekkid from the waist down, wiener hanging in the wind, for all the world to see right in the middle of the adorably cute scene.

Now the video went from cute to hilarious but not exactly for internet consumption. My son will, I’m sure, have to forgive me for a lot of things but I’m not sure if posting his wienerhausen on the internet would be one of them. So we’re just keeping it to our friends and relatives to be safe. And probably future prom dates. We’ll wait and see how much he pisses me off as a teenager before I make that decision.

"NOW SEEDS, START GROWING!"

Our half a tree is full of pink buds, ready to unfurl into white blossoms any day now. This is very exciting, as the week or two it flowers is the only time this Stepford neighborhood looks appealing to me.

The biggest hit of this spring has been taking the shopping cart out to buy dandelions.

I am FILTHY RICH in dandelions. Try not to be envious.

Rowan, pickiest of picky eaters, surprised me by not only trying cantaloupe but using it as her main form of sustenance the last week.

We've already hit up almost all of the local parks, and the kids have played really great together- a huge change from last fall when they would dart in different directions leaving me to tend to one while praying that the other wasn't being kidnapped or dangling precariously off playground equipment.

So we're rocking spring and loving that it came a few weeks early this year. As Rowan says, "We're pretty lucky to have a earfh".

Keaton thinks so, too.

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