Walk a mile

They say you should never judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.  Well, I’m offering you the rare (ok, not so rare) chance to spend a mile in my shoes (ok, not really shoes, more like flip-flops…it’s summer time.  The shoes are in the closet until fall!)

Well, after a long night of sleeping and waking up without an alarm, it only makes sense to ease into the day.

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Now this is how you enjoy that first cup of coffee.

After a few hours of stressful ‘yard work,’ I realized it was time to feed those pesky children.  (Again with the eating three meals a day garbage!)  After a year eating in a boring school cafeteria, they forced me to change up the scenery and serve them their requested meal in a little more enjoyable lighting.

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Since I can’t having my children feel like spoiled, pampered babies, I put them to work to provide the family dinner.

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I’m only kidding.  I’m a true Nebraskan.  I eat meat, real, red meat.  Meat that used to moo and get tipped over.  I might love going fishing, but I won’t eat fish or any seafood for that matter.  Don’t judge.  It swims in its own poo.

After all that grueling chaos of the morning, it was time to FINALLY pamper myself.  Hey, I’d earned it.

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Yep, that’s the ticket.

Sidebar ~ I have terrible feet.  No really.  I actually feel bad for the poor lady who has to work on these clubs.  Just look at her.

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After all the power grinding, she needed a nap!  Apparently IP shares my sentiments.


He’s currently looking for a couch to crash on….

Well, as you can imagine, after making it through all the chores on my schedule, it was time to finally put these ol’ dogs up for the day and give them a proper rest….FINALLY!

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Now, there’s my mile, judge away….



She better be a patient woman

My son, Trystan, is a warm, loving, smart boy.  He also is under the misconception that the world is here to wait on him.


You can ususally find him wherever his is, as he has left a trail of discarded items in his wake that he, wrongly, believes others will just pick up for him.  I asked him once, after he finished a snack, set down the plate, and began to walk away, who he thought was going to put that in the sink for him.  He promptly said, “You.”  The fact that he’s still alive today, I believe, is a testament to my patience.  The day of this event is when I began to have pity for my future daughter-in-law, the woman whose house him and his ill-guided ideas will move into one day.

The other day, I took my high maintenance boy in for a hair cut.  I didn’t think his hair was needed, but he insisted it was waayyy too long.  After flipping through the books to find his next style, he showed it to the stylist and they walked away to begin.  I waited and waited and waited.  Why was it taking so long to cut a kid’s head of hair?  I peeked around the corner.  He was leaning back in the chair, his face wrapped in towels.  Hun?!?!  Then the towels came off and a massager came out.  My ten-year-old son was relaxing in the chair as a grown woman massaged his neck and shoulders!  My son stretched a simple hair cut into a mini-salon day, draining my evening couch time and my check book in the process.  It’s a good thing I really like this kid!

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“She better be a patient woman!”  ~ It’s become a standard response around here.  I don’t even know this lady, but I love her for being able to put up with him.  Whoever she is, she’ll have her hands full with his constant trail of trash and weird grooming habits, but the trade off is, she’ll be landing one hell of a great guy….if he can just make it to adulthood before I strangle him!


Welcome to Hell…I hope you brought sunscreen

Welcome to day number 857 of the heat wave of 2012.

What in the world is going on with the thermostat of this country?  I mean look at the forecast for the upcoming week.

Now I don’t want to get to deep and spiritual on anyone, but this endless heat wave, the nation wide drought, and the state to state out of control wildfires make me think that someone, hint, hint, the man upstairs, is trying to send us a message.  I wish I could decode it already, because this is unbearable.

Now, I am your typical sun worshipper.  As a teenager, I would slather myself with vegetable oil, Crisco to be exact.  I figured, if it could fry chicken, it could fry me!  Bad logic.  My oil drenched, dripping body ruined the wood finish on my parents deck.  If the sun was out, no matter the temperature, it was tanning time in my world.  More bad logic.  My parents declared it needed to be at least 60 degrees before I could go out.  Boo!

Despite all the warnings from the media and my Dermatologist cousin about the ‘dangers’ from the sun, I’m still out there every summer getting my bronze on.  After all, Vitamin D comes from the sun and Vitamin D is necessary to our survival, therefore tanning is necessary for survival…right?  (Hey, I took philosophy in college, it could be correct.)

But as the old saying goes, you can have too much of a good thing.  I was still getting more sun than I should and too many sun burns.  In my head, I knew that my sun time is not healthy and that I should curtail it, but the allure of that ‘healthy tanned’ look continued to win out.   I would love to say that reason and knowledge put me over the edge, but it was pure vanity.  Recently, I noticed discolored spots on my skin.  Sun damage in the flesh!

So I did what any reasonable and fashion conscious gal would do.  I went out and bought this cute hat!

You didn’t think I was really going to quit going outside, did you?  I’m still out, enjoying the heat when I can, but now, I’ve got my sunscreen on and this diva creating number to keep me safe!

This is what I do for fun

Call me crazy, but I run half marathons.  I actually really enjoy them.  I know, throw insults now.

I started running 20 years ago when I was a senior in high school.  (Crap, 20 years old…damn, I’m getting old.)  My dad ran.  It was something to do with him.  As I ran more, I found that I enjoy it.  It’s relaxing.  It clears the mind.  It frees your body of stress.

For years, I ran for exercise, to de-stress, nothing else.  Back in 2006, I had a friend who dropped a bunch of weight by working out and had gotten into running races.  She told me I should sign up for a half marathon with her.  I said, sure, why not.  I ran my first one in 2007 and have been hooked.  To date, I have ran 8.

Now I know what I’m going to say will should crazy, but running a half marathon is not about the running.  Bare with me while I explain this. Of course, you have to run and make sure your body can make it 13.1 miles, but the reality is, most bodies can do it.  I have seen and been passed by all body types, young, old, very old, thin, average, and heavy.  All people can run and do run.

Once you get the breathing and endurance thing down, it all becomes a mental game.  Can you push your mind to keep going?  I am living proof.  I trained well for the first one and did good.  I trained intensely for the next because I wanted a certain time.  The last six, I’ve just gone out and done.  I didn’t train the way some might have, but none of that mattered.  Some were ok, some sucked royally.  Some I ran, some I walked/ran.  I got up that morning, put on my shoes, started the race, and I finished.  And in the end, finishing is finishing.

I think that is why everyone gets medals at races, because it’s a personal battle with yourself.  It’s a mental game.  If it was just physical, only the winner would win.  In a foot race, everyone wins.  Because you made a commitment, because you pushed yourself, because you did it….. you win.