Picture Day

September 27, 2010

Leave a comment if you're surprised that I forgot all about school picture day last Friday and sent James to school wearing a Star Wars t-shirt (third day in a row) and looking like there was a mother bird living in his hair.

Really, go ahead and leave a comment if you just can't believe it.

Party Games

September 26, 2010

I'm glad I saw this yesterday. Maggie's birthday is in a few weeks and I was at a total loss about which games to play at her party.

Problem solved.

Chocolate Cake, 305, Work Schmirk, and Seminary

September 24, 2010

And, a wrap-up of my week:

Chocolate Cake was a really good girl, but just like we promised ourselves, we didn't take her home. We didn't take one of the puppies either--because every once in a while, I do exhibit a smidge of self control.

But guess what? Jared randomly bought me a Garmin 305 after reading that post from earlier this week. It hasn't come in the mail yet, but when it does, I'll be sure to tell you all about it. Turns out you actually can buy love. Yay!

The work gods were coming at me from every possible angle this week. I was taking work calls at the dinner table, during my exercise class, while I was pooping--and I accidentally flushed. Excellent. The woman on the other end of the line was like, "Was that a toilet flushing?" And instead of making up some lame-o story about flushing a spider, I was like, "Yup. This phone call's getting so long that I couldn't hold it anymore."

Seminary is...um...early. Early but good. Just to refresh your memory, I'm teaching a religion class, to ten or twelve teenagers, out of my den, every morning at 6:05. Here's a picture of the classroom:

Oh gosh no. I totally don't miss that square footage. Not even a little bit.

I've only had to yell at the kids once so far, when I looked at that table and I fool you not, every single kid, except for one, was sleeping. It was so dramatic you guys. I took in a deep breath, I threw down my Scriptures, slammed my fist on the table and said, "YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M NOT ABOUT TO STAND HERE AND TALK TO MYSELF. SEMINARY CAN BE OKAY, OR SEMINARY CAN SUCK AND RIGHT NOW YOU'RE ALL MAKING IT SUCK! SO SNAP OUT OF IT!"

They did. They snapped out of it. It was fierce. And awesome.

Speaking of awesome, the kids are really awesome.

Hope you have an awesome weekend.


Chocolate Cake

September 22, 2010

That short, little post down there made me feel a whole lot better. This is one of those days that I just want to get through. I just want it to be over, and thankfully, my 7 o'clock bedtime is getting closer and closer. In the mean time, I kind of want to elaborate on the dog thing I mentioned down there.

There are two separate and distinct sides to my husband. There's the side that goes to work every day wearing dress pants from Banana Republic and $100 shoes, and there's the version that comes out on the weekends, usually wearing flannel with blaze orange accents.

It's very confusing. I'm like, "Jared. Are we going to the NPR benefit or the duck decoy expo??? Make up your mind."

And he's like, "Oh I don't know. Would you rather go bury your head in a bag of cheetos or exercise?"

Point taken. We want both.

So this redneck side of my husband is becoming more and more pronounced with every tick of the clock, and this gun slingin' man of mine really reeeeeeaaaaaalllly wants a huntin' dog. A German Shorthaired Pointer to be exact. A female....so they can make out....I think.

For the past three years, Jared's talked about his potential/conceptual/imaginary German Shorthaired Pointer every single day. He pours over names (like Copper and Zip), which breeder to use, studies up on bird dog training, clips Iams coupons, so on and so forth. And every single time I even begin to hear his mouth make the soft G sound (you know, for German Shorthaired Pointer), I literally stick my thumbs in my ears (so I can give him the double finger) and go LA LA LA LA LA LA LAAAAAA!!!!!

You see, I already have a 60 pound diaper eater. It would be quite self indulgent to have two:

Photo courtesy of James

This morning, Jared stayed home with a sick Maggie while I ran to a work meeting, and when I came home, his laptop was open to a screen sized picture of, what else? Say it with me in unison: A GERMAN SHORTHAIRED POINTER!

"Hey," he said, pointing to the computer screen. "Check her out. She's five, she's all trained to bird hunt, and she's right on the other side of the river."

Usually, that's my cue to slam the lap top shut, touch my nose to my husbands and go, "DUDE! YOU'RE CRAZY!"

But we all know I'm having a completely off day in the stable emotions department, and before I knew it, it's like I was looking in on myself saying the following phrase (in super slow motion of course), "She's cute. You should call about her."

And then, after a solid five minute dispute about whether or not to pick up the phone--I was completely egging him on--Jared called.

Well crap. Want to guess what the dog's name is?

Really, guess.

Chocolate Cake. The dog's name is frigging Chocolate Cake. So of course we're going to see Chocolate Cake tonight.

We've made a solemn vow that we will not come home with Chocolate Cake tonight. We'll pet her and scratch her back and whatnot, but that bitch isn't setting a paw in our station wagon--not until we think it through for a couple of days. I don't care if she turns out to be a cartoon dog who farts hearts and reads the Scriptures in Hebrew, we're thinking this one through.

...but I do hear that she likes to run.

Can't Ignore It

September 22, 2010

Today's the two year anniversary of my 18 week pregnancy loss. He was a boy.

As much as I feel like I should mark this occasion with a long, poetic post about growth and appreciation and finding beauty where you least expect it, that's just not on today's agenda.

Do you know what is on today's agenda?
  • Saying the F word. I think I've said it forty or fifty times, and it's only 12:30. I've said it at work, I've said it on the phone, I've said it just for fun.
  • Laying (or is it lying?...either way it's just another reason to drop the f-bomb) under my covers.
  • Egging my husband on to go take a look at a hunting dog he's had his eye on since the day we moved back to Maine--because you know, whatever, it's only a dog. I don't care. Seriously, what is there to care about? Have I mentioned that I don't care? What was I writing about? A dog? Whatever.
  • Replaying the song I Will Follow You Into Dark over and over and over in my head, and crying like a baby when I pulled that video off of of YouTube. And since we're on the topic, this song always kills me. And this one. And pretty much every other song that talks about lost love, and uses the word "baby"--which, if I had to guess, is 79% of all songs ever written.
And that wraps up my to-do list. Now I'll leave you with a commandment:

When a friend or loved-one or random facebook person loses a pregnancy, please, please, PLEASE never say anything to the effect of:

Everything happens for a reason.


That's too bad, but at least this didn't happen to you...[insert unbelievably horrible story about friend-of-a-friend's baby here].

Those are incredibly stupid things to say. Instead, try something like this:

I'm really sorry, I just don't know what to say.


I'm so sad for you.

Those things are so much better.

Maybe I'll write more someday, but in the mean time, just know that you guys are great. Glad you've been with me through the happy and sad. I don't know you, but I love you.

A Whole Lot of Nothing

September 20, 2010

Sometimes I wish I drank beer. Like today. I have this pork roast thing in the crock pot for tonight, and it just seems like a Pumpkinhead Ale would pair up with it quite beautifully.

The only other time I wish I drank beer is after long races. I think the moderate dehydration, plus the alcohol could make for a really good time. Or a quick trip to the ER--either way.

But I don't drink beer, and that's okay.

Other than that, I just a have a few things to catch you all up on:

1) Maggie licked our home phone (which is actually a cell phone), and now it doesn't work. My cell phone only works when it wants to, and between those two technological issues, I'm feeling very pioneer-esque.

2) I really kind of want a Garmin for my long runs and for when I do speed work. The 405 is too pricey, and the 305 is roughly the size of a brick--but a very well priced brick. Can someone offer up a strong opinion here? What to do, what to do?

3) I'm still winning the pizza contest.

4) I'm still hopelessly dependent on caffeine and I'm loving every minute of it.

5) Mindy is a marathoner!

6) Maggie untied the belt tie thing on my wrap dress yesterday while I was walking from the Chapel to the Mother's Lounge at church. Approximately seven people saw my goods. It was unexpectedly invigorating.

7) I signed up for a few cross country races, and in a moment of pure excitement I bounded up to the attic to dig out my fifteen year old racing spikes. I couldn't even begin to get them on guys--it was like trying to put a sock on a gallon of milk. Fatter ass, fatter feet, what's next? Let me just say, if my clavicles get fatter, I'm throwing in the towel. They're the best part of my body.

8) I know I have a super strict no WalMart policy (you can read about it here and here...and I'm promising you that I've adhered to it), but I'm determined to get my friend Kim to do a lap through WalMart and a lap through Target on our next long run.

9) I'm making a Julia Child recipe tonight, please bow down to my fanciness. But not too fast--I'm totally using Stove Top Stuffing. It's the best.

10) So really, Garmin thoughts? I'm chained to my treadmill on speed work days.


September 16, 2010

When I wiped the sleepiness from my eyes I really did take that post down.

Everyone who read it (or has it hanging out in their Google Reader) is in a super secret club for awesomely cool people.

Pizza Update

September 15, 2010
So remember that pizza contest you guys helped me out with? Well get this. I was reading the contest rules a few days back and realized that the contest runs until four weeks after the pizza place opens...and it's not scheduled to open until the middle of October!


This is the longest contest I've ever seen.

I'll let you know how the pizza tastes some time after Thanksgiving.

And obviously, it's not too late to vote for me.  Thanks to all of you, I'm still in the lead by over two hundred votes, so get your snowsuits ready for a pizza party in Maine!

I'm So Excited! I'm So Excited! I'm So Scared!

September 9, 2010

Does that title ring a bell? Think hard.

If you're anywhere between the ages of, oh I don't know, twenty-six and thirty-six, chances are you remember the most dramatic and epic television moment of our collective childhood.

Thanks right. I'm talking about Jessie Spano on drugs:

I'm not sure whether or not Zach specified in that little clip up there, but I won't withhold the hard truth. Jessie was strung out on the worst of the worst--caffeine pills.

I know. The horror.

Today, I'm writing this post to give you fair warning that I might have a JessieSpanoI'mSoExcited moment of my own over here, and if I do, I promise that Jared will grab the video camera.

So yeah, I've fallen into the deep dark world of caffeination, and let me just say that I can't get enough.

Contrary to popular belief, caffeine is not against the Mormon religion. Coffee? Not allowed. Black tea? Also forbidden. Caffeine in various other forms such as Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper, Red Bull, 5-Hour Energy, and my vehicle of choice, Vivarin? Not technically against the rules.

Now before you get all THAT MAKES NO SENSE! WHAT THE HECK? EXPLAIN THIS TO ME! I WANT ANSWERS! YOU'RE ALL SO STUPID! on me, I'd like to remind you of a few old adages, scriptural and otherwise:

1) Just not, lest ye be judged.

2) If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

3) Shut yo mouth.

Caffeine most definitely goes against the spirit of the 'no coffee, tea, crack, hookers, beer, or cigarette' rules--but I'm sorry, if every Latter Day Saint completely abstained from a little stimulant action every now and again, I promise that there would be a multitide of 12 passenger vans plunging into the depths of canyons all over the West.

(Maybe you have to be Mormon to understand that last sentence, I dunno...)

Up until a few months ago, with the exception of a Coke every month or so, I completely stayed away from caffeine. I just never felt like I needed it, and I guess I didn't want to get addicted to anything, no matter how innocent.

Well, back in the spring I read a very well researched article about the performance boosting benefits of caffeine for endurance sports, and since I run marathons, I thought I'd give it a go. It started in the form of caffeinated Gu, it eventualy evolved into a shot of 7-Hour Energy (that ghetto stuff you see on the counter of 7-11) mixed into my Gatorade bottles, and finally, for reasons of cost and portability, I settled on Vivarin--you know, Jessie Spano style caffeine pills.

See, those 7-Hour Energy shots go for $1.50 a pop, but you can get a sweet little box of 24 Vivarin tabs for $4. And just as a point of reference, each tablet is the equivalent of one cup of coffee. I like to pop one an hour so before a run, somewhere around mile 10, and maybe one more around mile 20. Really gets the giddy-up going if I do say so myself.

So, in the last couple of weeks, I've come to the conclusion that my life is kind of crazy right now. I've got two kids, a part-time job that has me in night meetings up the whazoo (I wonder how you spell that), I'm nursing a baby, big awesome kind of stressful things happening in Jared's office, I'm training hard for another marathon, and I'm teaching a religion class to a room full of teenagers every day at 6am.

Now please understand, I'm not complaining by any stretch of the imagination. I have a zillion things to do--so what? I bet you do, too. And besides, I honestly do best when I'm ass-crazy busy. Bu-ut I'd be a gigantic liar if I didn't admit that I'm feeling just a tad worn down these days. And lying is one of those things that's absolutely against my religion, no exceptions! (Unless the lie is in reference to the size of your wife's post-baby ass, in which case it's strongly encouraged.)

Anyhoo...enter the caffeine pills.

They used to be reserved for long runs, but these days I'm a tad more lenient. Now they're kind of a once-daily occurance reserved for things like meetings, and mornings, and so I don't fall asleep while I'm watching rerun marathons of The Office. And guess what?

I. Feel. Fabulous.

And very peppy, too!!! See???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO peppy :)  :)  :)  !!!!!!


So. Until I have my Jessie Spano moment, which will inevitably happy--and again, I promise to catch it on tape--I am loving these stimulants.

Big Time Stuff. Really Big Time Stuff.

September 6, 2010

You guys, this is probably the most important blog post I'll ever write.

You see, I really, really reallyreallyreally need your help. Really. Get this......

There's a strong possibility that I can win a pizza every single week for a year if you help me out.

OH MY CRAP I WANT THAT PIZZA SO BAD!!! And it's so super easy to help me win.

Now, before I go any further, let's just remember, that for the last four years I've been faithfully letting you in on all of my dramatic marriage moments, poop-in-the-pants fiascoes, financial blunders, and other highly personal occurrences that should never be shared in a public setting.

I make you laugh. I make you cry. I make you really glad that you're you and not me. And now you finally have the chance to repay me...isn't that rad? And the best part? You might get to watch me turn super fat over the course of the next year from all the free pizza. Hooray!!!!

All you have to do is click on this link to get to the Rooster's Coal Fired Pizza & Tap House facebook page.

When you get there, you need to 'like' Rooster's.

Then, go to the wall, scroll down, find my comment, and 'like' it. My comment says:

Right now, I buy my pizza for $5 from the gas station around the corner. It definitely fits the budget, but I won't mince words here...the stuff tastes just about as good as a shriveled up butt. Plus, my neighbors know where I get my pizza, and I'm pretty sure they think I'm low brow. A free year's worth of pizza would definitely improve my pizza eating experience AND my reputation. I really, really, really hope I win.

Right now I have 19 'likes' and the lady who's winning (her name is Dawn and I'm not kidding when I tell you that she has about 50 middle and last names) has 26 'likes.'

Come ON. I know we can blow her right out of the water. We can come out from behind and make Dawn look completely silly. COME ON. COME ON!!!!

Please, please, please help a girl out. Winning this contest could very well be the biggest moment of my life.

Just click here and start 'liking' to make my wildest dreams come true.

Snacks Held Hostage: The Story of My Eighteen Miler

September 3, 2010

I'm not sure whether or not I made this clear, but when I ran that marathon in July and didn't qualify for Boston, I woke up the next morning and registered for the Bay State Marathon in October. Right now, Bay State is just a little more than six weeks away, so I'm in the throws of my long runs. I did an 18 miler this week, I'll do a 12 miler next week, then 20, 15, 20, and the taper sets in.

Lately, I've been doing my long runs on Wednesday mornings. I roll out of bed before 5, and trudge out my door in the dark. Jared does the morning routine on his own, and I come home to an empty house, ready for a morning of work.

I don't know about you, but I firmly believe that 15-20 miles is a small price to pay to get out of the morning routine.

So, like I said, yesterday morning I ran 18. The night before, on my way home from Target, I drove to a couple points on the route to plant a water bottle and a snack. Some people like to carry their water with a camel back or a fuel belt, I like to camoflauge mine in the bushes. To each his own.

I was driving along, trying to find some half-decent hiding places in the pitch black night--we don't really have street lights in this neck of the woods--and I thought I did a really great job. Water and snack #1 were hidden in a stone wall next to a stop sign, #2 was at the base of a 'curve in road' sign, and #3 was hidden at the base of a hollowed out tree near a street sign. Done, done, and done.

So I set out the next morning, sometime after 5 o'clock, and I'm not sure if you've heard or not, but there's a ridiculous heatwave happening in New England right now. It's been 96 degrees in Maine, which is total and complete bull crap if you ask me. By the time I approached the end of the first mile, the big digital thermometer at the bank already said 76 degrees. I knew it would be a hot one.

But I was good, for once in my life, I had planned ahead.

Water #1 was somewhere around mile 6, and I couldn't wait to get there--not so much for the water, but for the Rice Krispie Treat I also stuffed into the stone wall. It was the chocolate kind with little chocolate sprinkles on top and I stole it from my in-laws' snack basket--makes it taste even better in my book. I just love contraband.

So I'm running up the road, looking for the intersection, and see something in the distance that makes me say, "Please, please, please tell me that's not my snack stop!"

Of course it was. Snack stop #1 was also a bus stop, and since it was the first day of school, that corner was packed with kids, parents, grandparents, cameras, football helmets, tubas, you name it. And somewhere behind it all, my Rice Krispie Treat was being held hostage by the public education system.

To avoid looking like a crazy person, you know, by saying something nontraditional like, "Oh, excuse me. My provisions are nestled into that stone wall back there. Mind if I squeeze through and dig 'em out?", I just ran on by.

The good news was, snack stop #2 was only 3 or 4 miles up the road, behind the 'curve in road sign.'

Well, as I set out along the next section of my route, I noticed that the road was kind of going a lot like this:

It was a very curvy road, and as such, there was a 'curve in road' sign approximately every 3 to 5 feet. My 'curve in road' sign was directly across the street from a guard rail, but guess what? They all were. Someday, when the Rapture comes, I hope a hungry homeless man finds that water and that Power Bar--after all, it has six grams of protein.

So, it was on to snack stop #3, the one near the hollowed out tree. It was somewhere around mile 14 and by this point, I was starting to see a host of hallucinations and mirages--nothing a little water and a granola bar couldn't fix.

I was running along, keeping my eyes absolutely peeled, when I spotted the glint of the shiny granola bar wrapper. I kid you not, when I saw the slightest sign of my snack I started to do that crazy lost-at-sea laugh/cry thing that people do when they're about to be rescued by a Chinese cargo ship. Real life tears of joy, you guys. Real tears.

When I approached the snack and realized that I hadn't only hidden it by a hollow tree, but also in a huge patch of poison ivy, do you have any idea what I did? I said, "Screw you, poison ivy," and I ate that snack with all my might.

Better than Outback Steak House. And I never did get a rash.

Around mile 15, my phone rang. I'd been expecting this. I picked up the phone, and without even saying hello I said, "I don't know where the sippy cup is. I looked for it at 4:45 this morning and couln't find it. You'll have to look around."

And then I found myself asking the usual, wifely questions...."Did you check the sink?"..."What about the dishwasher?"..."Did you look in the diaper bag?"..."The cabinet?"..."Do you really need me to suggest these places? You can't think of this stuff on your own?"...."Sorry, you're right, that was rude."..."It's coming back to me. Last place I saw it was in the woods, behind the sandbox. I'm sure of it."..."Oh it wasn't there? That's because I MADE IT UP!"

Finally I said, "Jared, go drive out on Route 15. There's 'curve in road' sign with a water bottle next to it." And I hung up the phone and ran it on home.