weekend

the weekend started when my kid brother showed up on thursday night for a visit from college. he arrived four hours late, let us know his check engine light came on mid travels, and was coughing like he was sick with the bubonic plague. i called him when he was about an hour late and asked him if everything was okay...he told me not to worry because he saw a sign that said 'welcome to virginia' and he was just now passing the washington monument, he'd be here real soon. let me fill you in...he was coming from southern pennsylvania, it's a straight shot to our house...virginia and dc shouldn't be part of his tour. i hung up the phone and shook my head. after hearing about magellan's travels, i should've known at that point the weekend was going to be a shitshow.

friday night, my husbands college roommate rolled into town, along with his 3 year old. my college roommate and i nicknamed butch and him 'burt and ernie'. the two of them are like their own (weird) comedy act. they crack each other up (usually about things that aren't funny) and feed off of each other's ridiculousness. if you add alcohol into the equation with them, shit goes violently downhill fast. ella was already in bed when they arrived, so his daughter was quietly playing on the floor when we sat down in the living room and cracked open some beers to talk and catch up. mid conversation she stopped playing, stared up at the three of us, and said loudly, "umm, did you ever know jesus?" (i almost spit out my beer.) i said, "what!?" she said, "jesus? do you know him?" i let her know that not only do i know him, but he was whispering sweet nothings in my ear as i was running in the heat the other day. she liked this answer. (i love kids.)

so we all went to bed that night and at about 3am, i got up to feed carrie. mid feeding i heard a rumbling in her rump. (joy.) now normally in the middle of the night, i don't change her diaper (which is usually just wet)...however, upon actually hearing the excrement explosion i now was obligated to change the dirty diaper. i laid her out on my side of the bed, grabbed a diaper and some wipes and got busy. in the middle of swapping the clean for the dirty diaper...she started peeing. all over the bed. (my side of the bed.) i gasped loudly, startling butch who shot out of bed like a clown out of a cannon. he yelled, "what's going on!?!?!" (calm down, bozo...it's just a little urine.) after getting her a clean diaper and a clean onesie...i did what every normal sleep deprived parent would do. i slapped a clean towel down on top of the pee and went back to bed. (stop judging.) do you really think i'm going to go through the pain of changing the entire bedding at 3am with one eye open? (yeah, no.)

saturday morning i woke up (changed the sheets) and i was getting ready to go to a bridal shower for a friend in PA. "getting ready" consisted of getting a 2 minute shower and slapping on some make up. during this 'quiet time' i had a 2 year old repeatedly asking me to brush her teeth while teetering on the stepstool in the bathroom. (brush? brush? brush? brush?) toddlers 'repeat until you get what you want tactic' is a good one...they make you nuts (and usually get what they want.) also, i'm pretty sure ella would brush her teeth from morning until night if allowed...apparently it's a really cool thing to do when you are 2. there was also a 3 year old sitting on the potty staring at me, letting me know what she was peeing and 'maybe' had to poop. (holy cow.) also, at this point i was apprehensive about leaving burt and ernie home with kids, as they are just man children themselves. as i peeked in ella's bedroom to say goodbye, all four of them were in there (2 man children, 2 toddlers). butch was setting up a full sized tent, the kids had every. single. toy. that ella owns out on the floor, and his roommate was wearing a full sized dr. suess hat. (god speed...and my child better be alive when i get home.)

i packed up the unicorn and scrambled out to the car in the pouring down rain. we made our way up the road to pick up my friend fen who was going with us. i haven't seen much of fen lately, we've both been pretty busy...so i was looking forward to chatting in the car and laughing at the recent craziness that was happening in her life. i pulled into her driveway and i saw the front door blow open and her fly out. i was sipping my DD coffee and almost spewed it all over the windshield. why, you ask? here's a visual:

this girl never disappoints...one of the many reasons she is my best friend. "what are you wearing?!?" she could barely speak because she was laughing her ass off at my reaction, but she let me know that it was pouring outside and she didn't want her hair to get wet. (apparently shower caps are in...but umbrella's are soooo last year??) she hopped in the front seat, whipped off the shower cap and proceeded to show me an extra large bruise on her left leg. "i got wacked with a softball." i'm not even surprised by this information. "what happened?" she went on, "well, at my company softball game, i stopped at the base and the second baseman ducked when the ball was coming to her and it smacked into my leg. really hard." (par for the course for fen.) i told her i was surprised it didn't wack her in the head and knock her out. (she let me know that her boyfriend said the exact same thing.)

on our ride, carrie had to eat..so we pulled over and i hopped in the backseat. showercap sally was now driving. she stated that she felt like a cab driver, or the host of cash cab and asked me if she should start asking me trivia questions. i let her know this is not an episode of driving miss breastfeeding daisy, and she should just pay attention to the goddamn road. we arrived a little late to the shower, missing the surprise part of it. however, i was just glad we made it there safely at that point. knowing fen's luck, we'd be in a firey crash because she swerved to miss a cow that got loose on the turnpike or some shit like that. (jesus.)

i'm not quite sure why women partake in the stupidness of a bridal shower. it goes something like this... we all get together, buy gifts for the bride, eat food, drink, and then (my favorite part) watch her open gifts...oo'ing and ahh'ing at each present that is unwrapped. (guys wouldn't be caught dead doing this shit.) and the thing is...we all know it's kind of dumb. well, maybe not all..fen was sitting next to me when the future bride was opening gifts, commenting loudly on each one. "oooooo, towellllssss....they look sofffttttttt" and "oooooooo a clock....so niceeeeee!!!" as i caught her eye over my wine glass, i'm pretty sure she smirked at me. clearly she was trying to get me going...and it was working. after the his and hers griddle set, i wanted to run for the hills. the thing is though, even though we all know it's a semi ridiculous ritual, we won't stop doing it. (long live the towels that are soooooo sooooooffffttt!)

after the presents, we all gathered around for dessert. (not to mention that the three friends i was with (and i) had already scavenged the desserts in the other room hours ago, because we thought we were supposed to...we are so proper.) another bridal shower attendee had a baby with her and i asked her the normal mom questions, how old is he? is he a good sleeper? is he different than your first? she asked me the same things, and i told her in regards to her last question..i was fully prepared to get a hysterectomy after my first child because she was such a challenging baby. her eyes popped out of her head in surprise and a friend that was standing next to me almost dropped her chocolate cake as her body convulsed from laughter. (hey, at least i was being honest!) as the shower wrapped up and we headed back to maryland, i wasn't sure what i was coming home to.

as i pulled into the driveway, i noticed that every window in the front of the house was open and jamacian music was blaring out into the street. (dear lord.) i walked in and asked why the hell the windows were all open?! "it was hot." was the answer i got. (we have central air.) butch's roommate was cooking jamaican jerk chicken on the grill (apparently he needed the music to get in the mood??)...both kids were swimming in the baby pool (naked, of course.), and both guys were shirtless. it was also still raining and everyone was acting like it wasn't. they were all outside. (at least all of them were alive?) later on, the kids went to bed, the guys went out and i indulged in a nice bottle of wine and a chick flick. (fully prepared to unwind from this crazy weekend...) i went to bed around midnight and ella woke up around 4am, crying with a high fever. my incoherent husband was no help, so i got up and snuggled her for a while. in the middle of our snuggle time, butch woke up and sat on the edge of the bed, head down...hands on his knees and (you guessed it) balls hanging out. i didn't know whether he was going to puke or pass out...so i said, gently, "what the eff is wrong with you!?" (whoops.) he mumbled something about penelope. (drunk dog dreams?) i told him to lay the hell back down before he hurt himself. (thankfully, he listened...i didn't need to add sir stumbles into the mix at 4am.)

around 8am, i went downstairs for coffee...leaving him upstairs to wallow in his hangover. (i haven't been hungover in a year, i don't miss that part of drinking at all.) his roommate was up on the couch with his daughter watching tv, and he looked awful. he said good morning and then proceeded to ask me if butch told me about the "arm wrestling incident" from the night before. he was real sketchy about it, but said something about butch challenging a massive individual to an arm wrestling match, the guy's 2 big buddies, and a scuffle that ensued, and then came holyfield himself into the living room...with a fat lip. as the caffeine (and rage) poured into my veins, i could only shake my head. if i would've opened my mouth, it wouldn't have been G rated, and there was a 3 year old in the room. (he should not be allowed out of the house. ever. it's just safer that way.) by 10am, dumb and dumber had both kids naked in the baby pool and they were setting off fireworks in the backyard.

in conclusion...my brother spread his bubonic plague to my toddler (and i), it looks like toys r us threw up all over my house (it's a complete disaster), and my husband has a fat lip from trying to arm wrestle a man much bigger than he at a bar. oh, and the fourth of july is being reinacted in my backyard while i write this. so let me ask you...how was your weekend?! someone please buy me a mimosa. now.

running

alright, so those of you that know me (well)...know that i have not always been into running, or physical activity of any sort for that matter. i played soccer in high school, but really wasn't in the best shape...i actually probably could've been much better. (i had the skills down, but the stamina not so much.) when i went off to college...i didn't gain the freshman 15, i gained the freshman 40. (i am not joking, i literally gained 40 lbs in 3 months...it was pretty awesome.) apparently drinking a case of natty ice and eating ravioli out of can every night wasn't healthy. (who knew?) my super skinny roommate also packed on the pounds... turns out i was an awesome influence. i think one of the best stories from that time was when i went home one weekend and came back with a case of slim fast. as i unpacked the cans into the mini fridge, my roommate lost her shit laughing and was like...are you serious? i was very serious. (well, sorta.) and so, i had a shake WITH breakfast, a shake WITH lunch, and a shake WITH dinner. (yes, with.) i didn't realize that they were meal "replacements". i thought that if you drank them WITH your meals, the fat would just melt away. that being said, i think i gained an extra 10 lbs on the slim fast diet. (i should've been a spokes model for the shit.) anyway, shortly after i came home my sophomore year for the summer, i started working out and eating things off of a plate rather than out of a can. (i also switched to light beer.)

moreover, it wasn't until ella was almost 1 that i got a jogging stroller off of craigslist and started running with her and the dog after work each day. it started as something that i needed to do for myself...even though i had a toddler and dog along with me. after you have a kid, i feel like you kinda lose a part of yourself and you turn into mommy and forget the woman part. (and the sanity part) running brought that back a little bit. i am to the point now, where i actually enjoy running. i look forward to it. (i still feel like i'm going to die half the time, and still look like wounded animal while going up a hill...but it feels good to sweat.) i enjoy listening to good music while running, too. however, my playlist would make your head spin...one minute i'm wishing i was the farmers daughter with rodney atkins and the next minute i'm smoking a fatty with biggie and tupac. (hot mess of a music selection.) running is also a good way to relieve tension, clear my head, and is a bit of an escape for me. (especially when your kid is crapping on the floor and your husband is scared by it...) also, if you think you don't have enough time to do it...know that you have to make time. i could easily use that excuse any day of the week. (these days, i fit it in between feedings and changing shitty diapers.)

i've also noticed that people who run form a bit of a cult, kinda like the motherhood cult i've spoken about. i will not be drinking purple koolaid with these people, but they motivate me and i like that. my husband still cannot figure out why i enjoy it and looks at me like a grew a third breast when i tell him i'm heading out the door for a run.  today i also chose to do some free weights in the bedroom after i came home and he walked up the stairs and said, "easy arnold" and proceeded to quote schwarzenegger (complete with aussie accent) "i'm going to pump. you. UP!" (he yelled this at me, loudly, and then proceeded to laugh his head off.) he's been complaining how tired he is all the time, and i told him that i'd feel like a tired tub of goo, too, if i laid on the couch scratching my private parts, playing games on my phone all day. he laughed...but that didn't motivate him to lace up his sneakers.

and so, 4 weeks post baby, i'm feeling pretty good. however, one thing that is kind of a nuisance when running (that never was a problem before) is my rack. (it's huge.) you know the opening scene from baywatch where pam anderson is running on the beach...cans flappin' in the breeze? i look nothing like her (except the boobs)...but i do know that she is a good actress in that instance, because it actually hurts. i'm strapped down like a breastfeeding mummy and i'm still cringing. her smile on that beach had to be totally fake. (almost as fake as her fun bags.) anyway, i'm still not down to my fighting weight, but it's in my sights. (i can almost see it with a telescope.) i'm not looking to be a skinny waif, i've already stated before that i enjoy food and beer too much for that to happen. however, i don't want to be 40 lbs overweight chugging slim fast, either. (running is both a mental and physical thing for me...and i'm assuming all the others that run, too.) if you are a fellow runner...thanks for the motivation and letting me be a part of your cult. if you think i'm bat shit crazy for running, i'm telling you that you should try it. (hell, i think you should try anything at least once...) endorphins are no joke, people. get moving...and try not to look like a wounded animal when doing so.

"to get the finish line, you'll have to try lots of different paths." -amby burfoot

out

i can't remember the last time i was 'out' on a friday night. i'm not talking out to dinner, i'm talking 'out past 10pm drinking a beer at a bar' out. it's been a while. (a long while...i'm talking a year or so.) ella is 2 and i can count on one hand the times we've been out. (my husband on the other hand has been "out" much more than i...another perk of being a guy, i suppose.) i'm not against leaving my kids with babysitters, but during the school year i was so tired on a friday night i didn't feel like going anywhere and on saturday we would spend time with ella, get some dinner somewhere, and then come home and relax. much different than my early to mid-twenties. (that i don't remember much of...) however, my inlaws were in town for the past week and they offered to watch the kids while we (butch, his sister and i) went to the local watering hole. (sold!) carrie is a freak of nature and only gets up once in the middle of the night to eat, so as long as i wasn't shipwrecked mary when i got home i knew i would be fine. after ella went to bed, i got showered, put on a dress, and (holy crap) high heels. i even sprayed perfume on myself. it's not that i don't give a shit how i look anymore...but i don't really don't give a shit how i look anymore. (whoops.) i'm usually playing with a 2 year old or (the past 4 weeks) snuggling with a newborn...i'm pretty sure they don't care what i look like. as for my husband, i always think he doesn't notice what i look like until last night he exclaimed before leaving, "wow! it looks like you actually care about yourself!" (he acts oblivious half the time, so who knows what he's thinking.)

we went to the first location and there was a DJ. we walked right past the laser light show and opted to sit outside by the water, talk, and sip our draft beer. (are we this old?!) people were making goddamn fools of themselves. believe me, i have been out many a time and made a complete ass out of myself due to the consumption of alcohol..i should not be judging these other people, but i can't help it.  for extra laughs, i made the executive decision that we go inside for our last beer and sit amongst DJ crowd. i saw no less than 16 girls ass cheeks, people making out (hardcore) in public, people grinding on he dance floor like they were in heat, a fight, and fist pumping galore. (is this really what i was missing?!) we finished up our brew and went out to the car. (on to the next bar...)

as we walked in, there were nothing but dudes lined up on the bar. (total sausage party) my sister in law and i were the only two females, sort of. (i'll explain the 'sort of' soon..) we bellied up to the bar and butch stood behind us. a guy immediately tapped my sister in law on the shoulder and said, "you don't know what you just walked into, this situation is way messed up...she's a real treat.." and then he pointed to the 'lady' that was sitting next to me and two other boys (that looked too young to be at a bar...or maybe just 21) let me paint a picture for you...the 'lady' was a larger gal but short, shaped like a teapot, or a linebacker. she had short dark black hair, very dark painted on eye liner that was smudged (everywhere), long fake red nails, and jewelry galore. (i think her jewelry had jewelry.) she had a very loud, raspy voice and the two guys next to her (that she was with) were young, attractive (quiet) black guys. the pieces of the puzzle were not fitting together here.  and then she spoke..."heyyyyyyyy peeerrrttyy lady, how are youuuu?" i was not looking at her and she was talking to me. my sister in law elbowed me. (here we go.) i turned and said, "i'm great, how are you doing?" she said, "i'mmm terrrrific..and hungrrrrry." she then proceeded to order a shit ton of food..it was like midnight and this lady ordered one of everything on the bar menu, with enthusiasm. she also had ordered a mixed drink for herself and 2 waters for the boys. she went on to tell me her life story (which people have a tendency to do), this story included a mansion, travels around the world, dead parents, and a woman who she said was squatting in her house with 15 children...i can't make this stuff up. the boys looked uncomfortable, so i waved, smiled, and said hi. i said, "how do you know each other?" (i was dying to know.) she looked me dead in the eye and said, "these kids are my blind side." i said, "excuse me?" she said, "the movie the blind side? did you see it? i'm living it, sweetheart." (oh. my. god.) i didn't even know what to say...but she started giving me a sandra bullock performance, crying, and telling me how much they changed her life. (is this really happening?)

after her academy award performance, she said..."so what does your mom and dad think about that?" i said, "about what?" she said, "about you being married to him?" and nodded in butch's direction. butch was talking to a (much) older man (grey hair, grey beard)... about god knows what. it took me a minute, but i realized she thought that i was married to the old guy. i laughed and said, "i'm not married to pappy back there, i'm married to the other guy." she said, "that guy!? (talking about butch) i thought he was single..he's a FLIRT, a real big FLIRT." up until this point, butch had only been talking to us, and the old guy...so i could not figure out where she was getting the flirt reference. he certainly wasn't flirting with her at any point. (nor was any other dude in the bar.) she then said (loudly), "well...you know what!??! he can flirt with any girl he wants...but you get to take him home and you get to F him."(she didn't say F...she said the word.) my sister in law almost spit out her drink. the blind side boys looked increasingly uncomfortable. she rambled on about some other stuff and then yelled, "F YOU!!! (again, not saying F) GIMME A HUG!!!" and grabbed me hard and hugged me, and held on...tight. (whyyyyy does this shit always happen to me?!) after the "f you, hug me' bit from f'd up sandra bullock, we left the second bar and high tailed it home.

i learned a coupla things last night. 1. i should probably take off the t-shirt and throw a dress on every once in a while, because my husband does notice 2. i like to party as much as the next gal, but my fist pumping days are over and 3. when a lady linebacker yells profanities at you and forces you to hug her...you do it. it'll probably be another couple months until we get out again...and quite frankly, i'm okay with that.

groceries

so we took a 'family' trip to the grocery store today...check that off of the list of things i never want to do again. (holy christ.) usually, my husband (coupon extraordinaire) goes to the store by himself..after many, many hours of preparation and coupon clipping. today, i offered to go by myself. (because going to the quiet grocery store is a mini vacation from my funhouse.) he stated, i haven't been out of the house for 2 days, so why don't we all go. (famous last words.) i fed carrie, while butch wrestled (literally) ella to put clothing on her. these days, she is more naked than not. i've heard from other parents that this is a "phase"...however, i'm not so sure. the kid is obsessed with being nude. if we are inside it's not that much of a battle, but if we go out in the backyard it's all over. toddlers gone wild. she starts pulling on anything that is touching her skin and says, "OFF!! OFF!!" like her clothes are on fire and she will be violently burned to a crisp if she doesn't get them off her body immediately. i pick my battles these days..if she doesn't want to wear clothes, whatever. i can think of worse things. we have gotten accustomed to eating dinner out on the deck with a naked toddler dining along side of us like it's totally normal. (please pass the corn...and try not to notice that our kid is completely naked.)

alright, so carrie is fed, ella is finally dressed..and we head out the door. let me start by saying it is around 100 degrees outside (no exaggeration) at this point. this heat is enough to turn any normal person into a serial killer. i know it's summer, i know it's supposed to be hot...but this hot? really? c'mon. pretty sure mother nature is flipping us the bird. the sun feels like it's just a wee bit too close, making me a wee bit close to losing my mind. we feel trapped in our house during the day. the past two mornings i went running and seriously lost like 5 pounds of sweat...not from the physical exertion, just from the heat. ella insisted on riding in the jogging stroller this morning and was talking to penelope who was running along side of it...she kept repeating "hot, hot, hot..." shaking her head at the dog. she was in the shade, in shorts and a t-shirt and no shoes, slurping ice water out of her sippy cup. meanwhile, i was pushing the stroller having a come to jesus moment going up a hill. it's ungodly hot and this weather is absurd. (enough is enough.)

after blasting the air conditioning so our children wouldn't die when we put them in the car, we loaded up and drove the 2 miles to the grocery store. as we pulled in the grocery store parking lot, i was hoping the whole trip was going to be fast and painless...kinda like pulling off a bandaid. (it wasn't. it was more like pulling duct tape off of every hairy part of your body...slowly.) as we approached the sliding doors, the cart with the big toddler sized car attached to the front of it caught ella's eye. (joy.) butch decides he's going to push ella in that (after she yelled "CAR! CAR! CAR!"several times) and i got regular sized cart to plop carrie in. (awesome..we have now graduated onto having 2 carts. winning!) we walked in with our cart caravan of craziness and i hoped for the best. people were already staring. we went down the first aisle and ella was very serious about 'driving' her car, which was good because butch starting yelling at me for getting the wrong kind of yogurt because it wasn't on sale. we would've saved 6 cents if i went with the other brand. (he was dead serious.) he also said i was going the "wrong way" by starting on the left of the store...he was going to get ice cream (which was in my aisle) and it would surely melt by the time we got all the way to the other side of the store and checked out. the ice cream would not be the only thing having a meltdown if this kept up through the rest of the store.

we made it through 3 aisles and decided to divide and conquer. he would get a couple things, i would get a couple things...and we'd meet back up. i filled the cart with meat, cheese, crackers, bread, pizza, and ice tea. he turned the corner and came walking at me...in the cart he had 4 jars of pickles. four large jars. (that's it.) he also had 4 coupons in his hands, letting me know that we were going to get the 4 jars of pickles for $4 total, and normally they are 3 dollars a piece. i think he wanted to share his joy...it wasn't happening. i love pickles as much as the next guy, but seriously...that's all you could get in the 10 minutes you walked away from me?! pickles?! i decided not to freak out. deep breaths as we turned down the next aisle. usually when i have ella with me, i avoid the candy aisle at all costs. (for good reason.) however, i wanted to get popcorn and almonds and didn't realize they were in the same shelf space until ella pointing and yelling, "POP! POP!" at some lollipops. she hopped out of that cart car faster than you can say sugar buzz. her eyes were huge and she was looking at all of the candy like she won the jackpot. she set her sights on an extra large bag of assorted candies and would not let go. butch said, "no", took it from her kung fu grip, and put it back on the shelf...and then sybil decided this would be an awesome time to throw herself on the floor and act like one of us smacked the shit out of her. she lost. her. mind. screams galore as we walked away towards the next aisle. i went back and picked her up...and she karate chopped me in the throat and tried to do a reverse dive out of my arms onto the tile floor. (if people weren't staring before, they were now.)

somehow, within a few minutes, she got it together...just in time, because i'm pretty sure other grocery store goers had social services already typed into their phones ready to hit send. we hit the produce section and i thought that we were safe. until we saw the bananas. ella loves bananas. obsessed really, with bananas. (pretty sure it's because curious george, her idol, loves bananas.) butch picked some up and put them in the cart, but she let us know that she wanted to eat the bananas. (right then and there) butch walked away as she was saying, "eat! eat! banana! eat!" i calmly tried to explain that we had to pay for the banana first, and then she could gladly eat it. she didn't like this answer and started wailing again. (at this point i was ready to leave my full cart and head outside...aborting the whole mission and heading next door to the local bar.) we went to the checkout line and people were giving us the 'sympathy' glares due to ella's tears. then sybil saw a balloon and was all smiles again. (until we told her she couldn't hold it.) toddlers can be emotional train wreck...if adults acted like them, i'm pretty sure they would be committed to the psych ward. they can't hide their emotions, so it's all just out there...for all the grocery store (and the world) to see. (another thing they don't fill you in on in the parenting books.)

finally time to check out and we turn into the line with 2 carts and a toddler full of broken dreams. (denied candy, bananas, and balloons...poor thing.) and as you know...there was more candy in the checkout line. lots of candy. ella reached over and grabbed 3 butterfingers in one swipe. i decided at this point i couldn't take another meltdown, so i bartered with my 2 year old. you can have one lollipop if you give me those chocolate bars. thank god it worked. she happily licked her lolly until all of the groceries were bagged and in the cart(s). as we climbed back into the car, i turned to butch and he stared at me and just said, "holy shit." (my thoughts exactly.) that is an hour and a half of my life i would much rather get back and do over again. next time i'd like to be alone...with only one cart.