March 2010 Archives

Now...where did I toss those keys?

We cleaned out our garage, and I took a bunch of glass to the recycling bin because I'm cool like that. I pulled up to the bin, and threw my keys in the passenger side seat. And then thought to out-wit myself and roll the window down. Because you know it would be just fitting that I lock myself out of my car at a recycling area. "Hi baby, are you busy at work and all? Great, listen, I'm 60 blocks east of you. Can you go ahead and just head on over and unlock my car instead of silly things like lunch and all?"

So, I rolled down my window and left the keys in the car.

Clearly, I'm new to this, because all of my glass was packed in a huge cardboard box. I was able to lift and carry from the bottom of the box, so as not to let all that glass bust out, but right when I went to tilt and spill the glass into the giant bin, the cardboard box relented, sending my glass bottles all over the ground in front of the bin. Woops. So, I took the newly emptied cardboard box to the cardboard marked bin, and then started to pick up the bottles, giggling at my very consistent clumsiness. Can you litter at a recycling center? I don't know. When a fellow glass recycler shows up with her super duper heavy plastic bins. I should have better bins. This recycling isn't for the lame. I'll simply need a sturdier box for my recycling A-game. Right when I mentally resolve that entire issue. I hear, "OH MY GOD! OH NO! OH MY GOD!"

It turns out Miss Sturdy-box-for-her-glass-recycling had her keys in her hand and instead of throwing a bottle into the bin, she flung her car keys in there. I squinted my eyes to see if there was a mirror I was looking into, because this was SUCH a Leslie moment. Nay, it wasn't me. She had better hair, and way more wine bottles. So, I went over to help. Ultimately, she needed me - I was longer and could lean further into the gigantic bin. She knew the vicinity of said key flinging, and so we looked. It took a few minutes, but I found them! In a stunning rendition of Jenga, I carefully removed some bottles so I could get my hands on the keys without them sliding down further. VOILA!

And the lady says to me, "Oh thank you so much! I did NOT want to make that call to my husband!" I know what you mean, girl.

I told her it could have been me easily. And then went to lunch with Ricardo and told him the entire story. I ended it with, "It's so much fun to help someone just like me! Aren't you proud I got to help someone in that situation instead of BE someone in that situation!?"

"Uh, yes. Very uh proud, sweetie. Good job not locking your keys in your car yet another day." Ofcourse he didn't really say that. But I bet he wanted to. Me too.

That's how I roll.

"Well, your joy and your castle is nice and all, but just not quite good enough."
The kids explained to me in the car on the way to school the other day that Disneyland is probably, like, the 3rd happiest place on Earth.

"Oh really, well, what's the first happiest?"

"Home."

"And then the second happiest?"

"Grammas!"

We're doing SOMETHING right.

"Yeah, and THEN Disneyland for SURE, Mom."

That's how I roll.

I think I've mentioned before that I've been accused of being a perky morning person. Yesterday, I went to wake up Lucy. Sometimes I feel guilty standing at the bottom of my stairs yelling politely what day it is and to wake up and hurry already while I get breakfast ready and slurp down some coffee. So, today I opted to be nice mommy since it worked so well earlier, and as I explained to the kids to wake up, I went into their rooms to confirm their awakeness.

Max was already awake. Lucy buried deeper under her comforter. My how the roles have changed. A far cry from just weeks ago when Lucy would get up at 6a.m. and knowing she couldn't wake us until 7a.m., simply read out loud until one of us (me) got up to tell her to be quiet. "Well, Mommy, if you're already awake can we go downstairs and talk?"

Since the dawn of their 7 year history Lucy is the first to sleep, the first to wake up. Max compliments that being the last to sleep, the last to get up. And now, they've flip-flopped on me. Even better was the conversation I was about to have with my sweet little girl.

"Luuuuuuccccccyyyyyyy! It's time to wakey-wakey! I'm making pancakes and..."

"MOM - could we puhlease set my alarm from now on so you don't come in and wake me up."

"You'd rather hear the blare of an alarm clock like this: BEEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Then to have me wake you up?"

"Yes, because the alarm clock doesn't say 'WAKEY WAKEY!' like you do."

Every roommate I've ever had has made the same request, hunny.

So, I waited until she fell asleep tonight, and then I snuck in and set her alarm thinking I was outsmarting her. Her princess slumber would be so rudely awakened by the annoying fire alarm signal of her alarm clock and then she would wish and hope Mommy would be singing WAKEY! WAKEY! instead. Mwwwahahaha! Such a brilliant master plan, don't you think?

I woke up giggling at the delight "learnin her a lesson" because her alarm was about to go off and this was going to be hillarious. Oh sweet mommy justice. The alarm goes off, keeps going. No movement. Ricardo gets up, walks in to find Lucy wide-eyed and smiling back at him. And then she just started in one long explanation about her dream and how she thought the alarm was part of her dream, yada yada yada.

I met up with her in the hallway, and with a little smirk on my face said, "Soooooo, how was that alarm clock?"

"Great mom!" And then she bounced down the stairs happy as can be.

My plan backfired. Dangit. Wakey Wakey to me, I guess.

That's how I roll.

This mouse can still fix things, but barely.

So, I'm sure you're all out of tissues after reading about my suffering from Ricardo being gone. But I suppose I should fess up on a little plan I hatched to get me the kids through it.

When we told the kids that Ricardo was going to Ireland, they asked us if he would be coming back. They were not as pleased and certainly couldn't possibly fathom this as an opportunity for Daddy.

Meanwhile, Ricardo started his Spring Semester for his MBA. His classes are on Wednesday and Thursday nights. So, after he leaves for work in the morning, the kids don't see him the rest of the day. And they are left with cranky mommy to put them in bed. The more they stall, the crankier I get. By Thursday night, just two nights of him being gone for just the day - seriously, they see him in the morning- they are crying citing, "I miss Daddy." All that's going on just for him being gone two nights a week. Dear God, what was I going to do with these little chumps when Daddy goes to Ireland!? I was really starting to dread it.

And then, as Ricardo sat and did our taxes, I sat next to him and mentally spent the hopeful refund. I decided we needed to take a trip while he was gone. But not just any ol trip will do - it's got to be huge and total compensation for the misery and despair we were going to endure. Hmm, what can fix anything for a 7 year-old? Kids, we're going to Disneyland in California!

It was a brilliant plan. Why, you ask.

• Because Ricardo swore we were done with Disney trips, but the kids and I didn't.


• Because Mommy can be the good guy for once.


• Because it'll help as leverage with "Oh, I know you miss Daddy, but we're going to Disney!"


• Because we can all use some Vitamin D. It's been grey all winter, no sunshine. We need warmth and sunny skies.


• Because when we step off the plane and get home, Ricardo's plane from Ireland gets in within THREE minutes of ours! How perfect is that!?

And I accept full responsibility for my own personal selfish acts to get to 85 degree weather as soon as possible. Whatever it takes for my babies, and my own selfish needs.

So, I planned a trip to Disneyland for just me and the kids. For the record, the first few days that Ricardo was gone, not even Disney was helping these kids. Max cried himself to sleep for 4 nights, as well as upon waking up and remembering that Daddy was gone. Lucy dealt with it by consoling Max. It was sweet to watch them help each other. By day 5, "We're going to Disneyland" finally started to work.

I pretty much let them do whatever they wanted to do while we were there. That was a bit hard for me. Still, I tried. Because Max actually asked me while meandering through a fairly good crowd on Main Street, "Mom, if this is the Happiest Place on Earth, then why are all these kids screaming and crying?" Heh heh, good point. I imagine it's because their parents aren't as awesome as me, Max. The problem with stereotypical Disney parents is they have a plan and try to make their kids stick to it. It's hard not to feel overwhelmed enough to NOT map out a route, I agree. But it's doable to just wing it. And that's what we did. There were a couple of rides I wanted to make sure they got to, so I pushed a little bit. But whatever they wanted, within reason (Uh, Lucy!), was fine with me.

I must admit, no computer, facebook, and very minimal phone use was divine. It really is sunny California, which we loved. By the time we left though, the blinding sun was getting on our nerves. The kids are growing up fast - they informed me they were there for the rides and souvenirs. No need for parades and shows, Mom. Nice. And there were only particular characters they would need to have their picture with, no princesses. That was kind of sad to see. But then again, they're all grown up and it was so fun and easy to get through the airport and Disneyland!

When the kids suggested they leave the happiest place on Earth to go swimming at the hotel, I almost balked. But then again, since we live in the arctic tundra, the hotel swimming pool - to us - that seems like another fantastic theme park ride. And after noon, the parks were crazy busy. So, we'd go in the morning and ride all the cool rides, then go back and swim, and go back to the parks for dinner and a few rides.

Even better, by the time we had to leave, the kids were actually excited to go, so we could go home to Daddy!

As much as that trip to Ireland was a great experience for Ricardo, that trip with just the kids and me to Disneyland turned out to be an opportunity of a lifetime for me. I know Max and Lucy will treasure it too. Well, atleast Mom's cool for a couple more weeks.

That's how I roll.

Ricardo got to see the Cliffs of Insanity! while in Ireland. Some might call them the Cliffs of Moher, but I think we know who's right here, don't we?

Well, thanks for noticing my absence, y'all. Ricardo went to Ireland for an international business class. He's back now. I didn't think it would be a great idea to blog to the millions of readers that my man was out of town. And that was all that was on my mind, so I had nothing to blog about. He was gone for ten very long days. And yes, if you do the math, he was in Dublin, Ireland during St. Patrick's day. What a fantastic experience!

I had the opportunity to go with him to Ireland, but just couldn't justify it unless we took the kids too. And that wasn't an option, so I passed. That's good to know that there's maternal instinct in there somewhere.

So, the deal is, I kinda like my husband. Those who have known us for a long time get a little bit irritated with how well we get along. I might even venture to say that perhaps I'm a wee bit dependent on the poor soul.If ever you're dependent on someone, it should be your spouse though, right?

Ricardo and I are truly besties and have only been separated for this long one other time. However, that time, we had access to instant messaging, emails and phone calls. This time, we were limited on communicating with each other because, well, he was in IRELAND.

I'm really proud of him for going on that trip. I know it was hard on him to be away for so long. I do some really random and crazy things for me all the time. It was time for him to do something all for him. Ultimately, our family unit still benefits from him taking that trip.

As anticipated, him being so far away for so long was a bit tough on the kids. I had to buck up and be strong for them. I think it was a good distraction for me. But on the inside I was a mess. JulzHOLLA! and her family did such a sweet job of checking on us and keeping us busy. The rest of y'all can suck it. I mean it. Not even a call. You know who you are. You left poor JulzHOLLA! to deal with my sappy poutiness. You guys owe her some flowers and chocolate.

So, while I sat at home all by myself and did nothing else much more than pout and be sad. Really, that's all I did, I wrote a few notes to Ricardo. Enjoy -

Dear Ricardo,

Remember all that poop we cleaned up before you left? A true yard garbage bag - a winters worth of Farley pooh. Remember that? We picked it up because the 2 feet of snow from Christmas finally melted and Farley had no where to poop. In the words of An Officer And a Gentlemen, "He had no where left to go!" And we looked like really shitty neighbors. I mean - literally. It was really embarrassing and we were exposed. We had to do something. So, the day you leave, we have a date in the back yard picking up poop. It is now POURING snow outside. One more day, and we would have had all the poop covered.

Max has had a hard time with you leaving for this trip. We knew he would. So, you can imagine my surprise when I picked up the kids and Lucy was the one who was bawling. Don't get a big head. She was crying because instead of walking to the car, she and Hannah stopped to play. She's in big trouble again for that. She even brought her PetShops to play with. I guess she dropped one and couldn't find it. It's a good thing you left today and my mantra is to fix everything and say yes to anything. Because you know the typical me would let her cry and learn her lesson not to bring her toys to school and not to play instead of walk to the car. But it's special circumstances mommy time. So, we turned the minivan around and went back. Retraced their very off-the-beaten path crime scene. She was hysterically crying and explaining everything while Max and I were looking for Smudge the PetShop bull dog. Max shouted "there he is!" and found him. I think I was just as relieved as they were.

Lucy threw her arms around Max and gave him a big hug and kiss. Max was so proud for taking care of things like you asked him to, he let her plant the kiss on his face without even squirming. We stopped and rented games. So, when we got home, Lucy can't find her DS. I asked Max to help her. But he really just wanted to play his game. I asked again and I hear him turn off his game and proclaim, "Why do I have to help her ALL the time!?" Which is funny, because it's usually Max we all stop everything for to help him find something really important.

Don't you worry, we found her DS.

At church today, Max stayed with me instead of going to the children's time. I think he felt a responsibility to stick with me since you're gone. They had a solo of a song from Pocohontas, and Max knew the words. He sang along, and guess what, he knows the sign language for it too. I guess that's the nothing part they did at school when I ask them what they did at school today. He'd only sing along if I wasn't watching. So, I had to look straight ahead, and then glance from the corner of my eye. Then he snuggled up to me the rest of church. So flippin sweet. I should be nice mommy more often, I guess.

Oh good news, remember those registration tags that I accidentally recycled before we could get them on your car? Well, I went to the county treasurer and pleaded my case. I must look as sad and lonely as I'm feeling right now because the guy gave me new tags for just six bucks. I put them on your car. You're totally legal now. You're welcome.

I find it ironic that I got the census on the same day. Not to worry - I've accounted for everyone in the household. There was no place for Farley though. Bummer.

It's grey out and I miss you desperately. I miss laughing with you till my stomach hurts. My stomach is in knots and I think I'm simply lovesick. I just miss you taking my breath away every day. The kids seem to be doing better, but it's exhausting keeping a positive spin for them. They are the best gift you've ever given me. They keep me going.

Love,
Leslie

So, there's my sappy note. Hope you enjoyed it. He's home now and it's taken us three days to get over jet lag and get through laundry. That must mean everything is back to normal. And I'm back to blogging about my crazy and perfect family life.

That's how I roll.

When I was a kid my mom used to forbid me to keep growing. Clearly, I've continued to let her down. It used to make me a bit mift when she thought she was so funny. And I'm sure I'd say in my head (or outloud in a sarcastic teenager know-it-all tone) "Uh, yeah, because I'm doing this on purpose for you, lady. I'm taller than my teachers and coaches, Mom. I'm just absolutely LOVING driving you crazy while outcasting myself in the social realms of the hell pit known as high school. It's so worth it to irritate you." I'm sure I said it just like that.

In my mom's defense, she did not know what to do with me. I was 6' tall at 12-years-old. My dad was trying to make a business work in the oil industry in the 80s in Houston. It was not easy to keep food in the fridge, let alone, clothes that fit me. We didn't have extra money for frivolous things like clothes or shoes that fit. So, her forbidding me to grow anymore, was a stressful plea, I'm sure. My older sister apparently stopped growing when my mom told her to - she's 5'3". My mom did not know what to do with me.

So, you'd think when my mom-certificate showed up in the mail, I'd know exactly what to do for these growing babies of mine. Like maybe that would be my one triumph of motherhood: "As God as my witness, my kids will never wear high-waters." Or something like that. It turns out, not so much.

Lucy came out of school the other day with her fuzzy winter boot sole flopping, half separated from the shoe. So, we went straight to get new shoes. Here in Omaha, we've been hoping winter was coming to an end, so, Target was out of kids' boots. I remembered that she was on the cusp of being able to fit into women's sizes, and so , we went to try some on. A size five was too small. A size six was too small. The kid found a great pair of warm ladies shoes in size SEVENNNNNN. A SEVEN!

And the words, "You need to stop growing so fast" almost escaped my lips. I just can't keep up. The next week, she came downstairs with pants too short. Pants that I'd gotten her in January. It's two months later, y'all.

So, Mom, this one's for you. I haven't said it out loud yet, and I'm hoping I won't. Still, I get it just a little more now.

That's how I roll.

Her new album's last track has a song that every dog lover needs. She's brilliant.

A few months ago, I might have suggested to Ricardo that Norah Jones was coming to town, and I might I have suggested that I really should be there to greet her. I also might have suggested he get the tickets, and he should probably be the one to go with me.

The power of several very blunt suggestions worked. And I went to one of the best concerts of my life with the best date ever.

A few weeks before I met up with Norah, JulzHOLLA! and I went to see Rascal Flatts. We went to meet a friend of mine who works on the crew - he does stage right speakers. I was so happy to see Pete healthy and working as he'd just recovered from a serious accident. And he also got us free tickets to the concert. From what I can see, and heard on the speakers, he does a good job. It was fun to meet up with Pete, and also fun to see the behind the scenes that go on at a concert and not be a super-fan. I found the performance to be odd. But again, I wasn't a super-fan either.

They played a ballad and ran a video in the background of a woman taking a shower. It was weird. And yes, the woman in the video was smoking hot. But it didn't go with the song. And we're here to see the band, right? If we wanted to see a video, we could watch MTV at three o'clock in the morning. So, that was weird. Pete, our buddy, travels on one of 12 buses that holds 10 crew people each. That's a crew of 120 people. They set up and break down the stage, lights, and speakers into another 5 big rigs. The stage goes all the way out into the audience. There were fireworks, and lots of shout outs in "IOWA CITY!" because that's where we were. My personal fav was there was a tv screen of the concert. Really? You can't just look down and see it yourself. I'm getting old and got tired of standing, and risked getting glares from the fans we were surrounded by to save my back. In all of that, they played for 1 1/2 hours, and a 1/2 hour of that, the lead singer guy took a break. I would take a break too if I had to wear rhinestone studded pants. It looked like an homage to Elvis, but not. It was weird. I'm not even joking. I wasn't too impressed, but can see how the super-fans enjoyed the whole experience. And how all those lights hit his pants displaying a very country-rock sparkle, I'm sure. Still, it was fun to see my pal Pete at work.

Let me defend myself here, I enjoyed the concert. That guy can sing. It was nice. Darius Rucker opened for them, and he was incredible. I had a great roadtrip date with JulzHOLLA! and it was good fun.

After all that, I was curious how Norah Jones was going to throw it down. I was so excited to see her sing live, but the venue was pretty cool too. Her concert was not in a gigantore coliseum, it was at the Orpheum, here in Omaha. The Orpheum is a beautiful performance arts theater, where we saw the divine WICKED. We had a great date, listen to a Grammy-award winner serenade us, all while sitting in the comfort of balcony seats at the theater. I'm getting old. And it was fantastic. She came out, wearing a pretty dress - no rhinestones. And she played her music. She sang beautifully, played several different guitars, the keyboard and the piano. There were some lights that twirled around with some of the songs. There was no video or freaky gigantic stages that requires big rigs. Just a stage, and a band. They could have rolled up in a minivan with all of their musical instruments in the back. It might have been one of the best concerts I've ever been to. A close second to Billy Joel circa 1994.

I love Norah Jones. And her concert made me love her music even more. Maybe it's because I'm a fan. Maybe it's because all of her love songs, I sing along to Ricardo all the time and he was sitting right there with me, hearing them as they should be sung. Heh heh. Maybe I'm old. But I'm a new fan of no flash, no videos, no giant stages or fireworks - just come in and sing your stuff. I am officially ruined as far as what to expect in a concert.

That's how I roll.

The kids have decided they want to do laundry. So far, they haven't figured out that more chores equals negotiations for higher allowance. Please do not tip them off. They're not getting more money, but I'm guessing they'll eventually launch negotiations.

The problem with them doing laundry is, I'm a bit of a control freak it turns out. And pause for my mom and every one of my friends, family and my husband to stop laughing hysterically. Your ready? No? Still going. Okay. I'll wait.

You done? K. Wipe away the tears from laughter and we'll continue.

Really, I don't even like appreciate Ricardo to do the laundry. I have a process. My mom brags that she had us doing our own laundry at a young age. But really, after she dried my jeans and they shrank - I was 6' at age 12 - I was simply desperate to do it myself. You can imagine my shock, horror and delight when Ricardo bought new jeans and asked that he wash them himself because he wanted to pull them out of the dryer at just the right time stretch them and hang them. Sure thing buddy. I understand.

Still, the kids want to do their laundry. So, I've taught them how to separate their clothes, get the water in the base first, detergent, fabric softener, and then the clothes. They have to almost bend all the way into the washer to get the clothes out and then into the dryer. I think they are starting to appreciate me. It takes longer. But they get it done and they are taking great pride in it. But in an effort to keep this stay-at-home gig as well as the control freak status - I insist on folding it. And then they can put it all away.

Lucy wants to vacuum now too. And she cooks. Great. I have no job now.

That's how I roll.

This lady was in our lockerroom the other day. Remember her?

The other day, JulzHOLLA! And I were walking out of the lockerroom, washing our hands when this woman came out of a bathroom stall, walked right up to us and said, "WHEW!" Exasperated from the apparent deposit she'd just made. I'm not talking just a general "WHEW!". She said it directly to us. Awkward.

Some ladies we know and say hello to and catch up with. Some ladies we recognize, and make a friendly gesture when passing by. This was neither of those examples. We'd never seen this lady before, and she just came out of a bathroom stall and said, "WHEW!" Jim Carrey style.

So, WHEW!Lady, we're glad you're so relieved.

It's good to be back in the gym.

That's how I roll.

This guy sleeps and attends college under Max's bed.

The other day, we skipped church and opted to do some serious deep cleaning. A noble trade-off, I'm sure you agree. We vacuumed mattresses, for crying out loud. So, you know it was pretty intense. When we flipped the mattress and pulled up the box springs, I found 3 missing socks of my own, one of Lucy's hair bows and enough dog hair to stuff a pillow. Ricardo even polished our furniture. I cleaned out my nightstand. I found 16 ponytail holders, 13 pens, and an ipod shuffle I've been looking for for months.

While we cleaned, I explained to the kids they needed to clean their rooms as well. Apparently they didn't get the message from our actions that it was serious bidnez. Because once I finished my portion of cleaning our room, I went to vacuum. That's when I discovered that Max had taken all of his stuff on his floor and shoved it under his fort-like bed.

A few days ago, I was enjoying just hanging out with the kids. I'm trying very hard to be available. Because it seems they really don't want nor need me until I'm elbow deep in cleaning dishes or making sure my freshly minced garlic doesn't burn while sauteeing. Very important stuff like that that you just can't walk away from to get a knot out of a shoe. So, I've been trying to get all of that done and simply be available for them. It's been working, but the kids are on to me. "Why is mommy just sitting there?"

Max caught on and I think he was actually challenging me. But I went with it. He has a basketball hoop garbage can that we taped the hoop part to the wall so Bevo (his stuffed animal long horn from Texas, ofcourse) could play on his college basketball team. He choreographed all of his stuffed animals Texas versus Nebraska (Oh, you know Texas totally took 'em) to play some basketball. It was all set up so that the college was under his bed, but the game was out in this other area in his room. I sat on his bed and watched the game, cheering and hollering. Max took the stuffed animals under his bed to their "college" at half-time. I waited. It was fun.

But when I went to clean DAYS later, all of his stuffed animals were lumped under trash, clothes, 3 footballs, a poster, and I think I found a cup and a dirty band aid too. GROSS! By the time I'd discovered it all, I was trying to suppress the Mommy Dearest rage. The fact is, he "cleaned" his room and was watching tv, while I'm crawling under his bed to get all of this stuff out from under his bed so that I can vaccuum. I yelled for him to come back up. And then I found a wire hanger. It's a good thing that's all we use here. The rage was suppressed, and I thought I was really doing the kid a favor.

He found me in his room cleaning it all out, "Max, you shoved everything under your bed. This isn't okay. It's your responsibility to pick up your room so that I can vacuum. This is a health hazard. What was in this cup? Don't answer. Just clean this up babe. I need to vacuum."

Tears welled up and then he picked up a toy, said he was going to take it downstairs and put it away. He never came back up. Then I heard him talking to Ricardo,

"Mom just destroyed Bevo's college!"

Oh no! I just ruined his college. Dangit! I called him back upstairs. I have to fix this.

"Max, did I just ruin your college?"

He nodded. Completely defeated.

"Max, does a dirty sock, a hanger, a football helmet, a motorcycle helmet and a band aid go to your college?"

"No."

"I'm sorry I destroyed Bevo's college." Usually, that's when he says it's okay. But he didn't this time. Wow, he must be totally devastated. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. We'll put all of your helmets and your footballs up in the net. We'll take down all of your stuffed animals and they can go to college."

His face lit up. "Okay!"

"And then after we get it all set up, you're the official coach and custodian of the college, okay?"

"What's a custodian?"

Exactly.

"A custodian keeps the college clean so everyone can enjoy going to college. Can you do it?"

"Yep!"

And then, as we rearranged it all, out of nowhere, completely unprompted, "Thanks, Mom!"

I'm going to have to destroy more stuff and then fix it more often.
That's how I roll.

I've finished up that hectic quarter of "What? Sure I can teach that class. And that class too. Sure I can pick up another" business. So, I'm back to the gym with my JulzHOLLA! She has suggested that my work schedule really hindered her workout schedule. We do a good job of not only depending on each other to show up, but to make it a laugh-filled and fun workout.

We've signed up for a few triathlons this summer, so this week, we're doing a day of running, a day of spinning, and a day of swimming. Then do it again. Today was spinning. I'm not a huge fan of spinning. I think I might have mentioned my unabashed dislike of spinning before. But it's not warm enough to ride yet. Our spin day fell randomly on today. It's a different instructor on different days. So, we're getting started, and the instructor can tell I'm new to spinning. Because I told her. I've got to stop doing that. We're warming up, and talking and then we get in a bit of trouble for talking. Uh, okay. And then out of nowhere, the leader chick calls me out and suggests I have a slight case of a.d.d. I laugh. Hahahah. That's so funny. And she comes back with something like, "And when it gets hard you lose focus. Right?" Yes. Insulting and true. I like to distract myself and laugh with my girl yo. So shut up and spin, right? I will if you will, leader lady.

Hold on, I've got to turn off the tv and log off of Facebook real quick while I write this.

Oh wait, I need to change the laundry and load the dishwasher.

Okay, I'm back now.

I'm going to need to do Farley's eye later, and pick up the kids. Oh yeah, I'm going to need to cut this short because I need to grab some corn starch because it's apparently Dr. Suess Week at school, and they made this Ooblik stuff. The kids want to make it at the house and you need corn starch to make it so....Okay, what was I saying before?

Oh yeah, some chump - the Leader Chick in spinning today had the audacity to suggest I had A.D.D. and when challenged, I can't focus. That was during the warm up.

The phone just rang. I have a dear pal who just asked me if I was okay having another Lucy in the world. She's having a Lucy. Awww. Isn't that sweet!?

I agree that I have lack of focus when working out and really, in life. I struggle with it. No wait, I embrace it. What's wrong with throwing a distracting joke out there when the chips are down? I'm just sayin. I'm well aware of my tendencies, and it's what gets me through the workout, and through each and every day buddy. And hopefully, it's what helps my friend get through a workout too.

So, after the "do you suffer from A.D.D." gig, miss leader chick continues to address mostly me and JulzHOLLA! and the fact we're talking and we shouldn't be able to talk and go 80%. I argue, while spinning faster than her by the way, that if I go 70% and talk, then really, my cardio is at 90%. Right? This goes on a little bit. I only react with very funny jokes when she addresses us. And then she suggests that just because I can talk, doesn't mean everyone else wants to hear it. What?

I agree that there's funhaters (I mean, it's spinning for gravy's sake) in the group and they probably don't want to hear me talk. Even though I'm very very VERY funny. I concurred and shut up. But let me take this moment to say, I would have just kept the funny to just me and my girl JulzHOLLA! had she just let us be.

At the end of the class, she mentioned something about our Venus flowing back. I'm guessing she was not talking about my razor. And I'm hoping she wasn't talking about the Venus that lines up with Jupiter and Mars. But it was getting weird in there, so I wouldn't put it past that. Still, I think maybe she was referring to a vein or something and maybe she's got a nickname for it?

I'm going to wear a tshirt to the gym as soon as I can that says, "My focus is being distracted".

That's how I roll. It really is.

Well, I know it's been the Lucy show for a while. So, I thought I'd show you this one. As a college instructor, I am certain every now and then I might miss something on a paper on occasion. However, I find this one amusing. Does anyone else see the irony?

I personally appreciate the fact that Max took the time to express his concern. We don't get it either, buddy. So, I sent it back with a note.

That's how I roll.

Once again, rolling in the apparent mobile therapeutic device known as my minivan, there's just something about having your kids strapped in and unable to move that's so comforting.

I've made a pledge, not to Oprah, but with MyDaph, that we'll not use our phones in the car. I've never been a fan of texting while the car was in motion. I'm not going to lie and say I've never done it before either. I don't care what you tell yourself though, your kids see you dialing, phoning, texting and checking your Facebook on your phone...while driving, or at a light, or whatever you're convincing your self to validate. They learn to do what you do. They'll do it if you do it. So, MyDaph and I made a pledge to each other (she had to make one at work: a cell phone service company) that we'd put our phones down.

I took it another step further, and pledged I wouldn't talk on the phone either. A few months ago I watched a guy in a minivan turn a corner while on the phone. With his natural blindspot tacked on with the "I'm on my phone" blindspot, he almost ran over three kids because the corner he was turning was an elementary school. One of the kids jumped out in the street. A teacher grabbed and pulled him back. Then she tapped the guys car. He had no idea. Absolutely no idea. It was a horrific look in the mirror at what could have been.

Between that and the fact that my kids talk to me when we're in the car. I mean, they really talk to me. I'm tired of telling them to be quiet so mommy can talk on the phone. So, I have a no phone policy - definitely no texting policy.

And I love it. Even when I'm driving to work all by myself, I've revised my playlist to belt out some tunes. Did you know that if I turn the volume up just loud enough, I sound just like Joss Stone? Who knew. Now I do.

The kids have really appreciated my new policy and are really opening up even more. So, Lucy and I were driving down the road the other day and she's telling me early she's been waking up. (She really hasn't been, but I humored her.)

Lucy: "I've been waking up at like 6a.m., Mom." (Sure you have, Lucy. Sure you have.) "Tomorrow, when I wake up, can I fix my own breakfast?"
Me: "Sure you can. What have you been doing when you wake up so early?"
Lucy: "I read and then I watch some movies." (Whatever little girl.)
Me: "Oh. Okay. Well, you know what I do when I wake up early? I like to say a little prayer and give thanks for all the good things in my life."
Lucy: "Oh Mom! I forgot to tell you, I did that and it worked! I DID IT!"
Me: "Really? What?"
Lucy: "Today, it was recess time. And Mrs. Teacher sent Herman to go see if we had inside or outside recess. And since it's been sooooo long since we've had outside recess, I prayed, 'Please God, let us have outdoor recess because it's really been a long time and it's nice out today. Please, please God.' And then Herman came back and said we were going outside! It worked! I did it!"
Me: "That's great, baby. But did you do that, or did God?"
Lucy: "Well, we BOTH did."

This morning I woke up and made breakfast. And then I raised up a salut of coffee to God and thanked Him for all the stuff we BOTH did, and then for my family, the no phone use policy in the car, and especially for that whole outdoor recess gig. Nice work.

That's how I roll.