Truth IS...

Truth is... this post would have been up on Thursday had I not spent two hours filling out camp paperwork.

Truth is... even with the gazillion snow days, shortened summer, and creative planning, I am still shelling out just shy of $3,000 for summer camp.  Remind me again why I work?

Truth is... I'm stepping back my training walks.  I am still aiming for 20-25 miles a week, but right now it's just too time consuming.  It may be the worst move, but 6 weeks prior I will step it back up.  Thing is, I work on my feet moving all day long and then go walk 12 miles without even a blister.  It's not the same as doing 20 miles for three days straight, I get it, but the training is taking all the fun out of the event. Plus, all this walking is leaving me alone with my thoughts.  And that is never good.

Truth is... I feel like I'm just going through the motions right now.  School's still got another month to go, during which little if no learning will happen.  Just field trips and cook outs.  Youngest is clearly having much anxiety about middle school, and Oldest is frantically trying to get his grades up so he doesn't lose his computer for the summer.  Work is... work, and I'm just feeling blah.

Truth is... I miss just going for a run.  No mileage to track.  No motive.  No have to do this guilt.  Just my tunes and shoes.  I really need to get back to that.

Truth is... we got two new fish!

Not my actual fish... picture from here...

Yellow damsels with black horizontal stripes.  They are doing well, but it's still too early to name them.  Needless to say, they are tiny but holding their own.

Truth is... We are on vacation starting Sunday.  Lots to do, multiple projects lined up, and in the end are likely to get a whole lot of nothing completely finished.  Story. Of. My. Life. Lots of projects 97% finished.

Truth is... I'm really hoping to at least finish the grout and trim on the kitchen tile. I did the other side of the kitchen on Wednesday. Then maybe tackle the window casing and paint.  If I can do that, it will just leave the upper cabinets to repaint.

Truth is... if I spent the vacation doing the 3% that needs to be finished instead of starting something new, I might feel like the time off was well spent.

Truth is... the pollen's been vicious lately.  My eyes and throat have been burning and itchy.  Really hope it's just the allergies and not Youngest's stomach bug making a come back.

Truth is...  It's been a rough week.  Tony and Youngest were reading my blog one morning and Youngest noted the title.

Tony:  "Yeah, it's funny right?  "Surviving Boys"
Youngest: "Yeah.  Especially because lately she's barely making it though most days."

Well said Youngest.  Well said.

How To Get Your Husband To Kiss Your Butt...

Step 1: Drag him all over tarnation for an early morning walk.

Step 2:  Casually mention during said walk that while he's off watching the game with his buddy, you're thinking about attempting the tile back splash in the kitchen.  You know the one from here?  Once home, you realize that he's already ripping down the wainscoting in the kitchen. Crap.  Now there's no turning back.

Step 3:  Casually check the internet for instructions on how to use a tile saw.  Give up.  Call Dad.

Step 4:  Set up the saw on the picnic table. Turn on the tile saw.  Stand back and look at each other wondering who is going to make the first cut.  Decide to go for it.  Slide the tile through, spray water everywhere, turn off saw, and do a finger check.

Step 5: Run in the house, place tile up on the wall, add accent tile, measure again for top row.

Step 6: Run back down the stairs to the saw outside, cut top piece.  Run back in, realize it's off an 1/8 of an inch. Swear under your breath.  Run back outside.  Re-cut.  Run back up the stairs.

Step 7: Spread mortar all over the wall.  When you get it just right, notch the mortar.  Spread more mortar on the back side of the tile.  Just like you're frosting a cake.  A really inedible, sticky, messy, heavy cake. Notch that, and stick it to the wall with a little wiggle. Wiggle the tile that is, although your could wiggle your butt a bit as you're stretching your whole body over the counter top. Make it a game if you'd like.

Step 8:  Repeat with accent tile and top tile.  Stand back to admire your work, bang head on upper cabinets.  Swear some more.

Step 9: Remove wedding ring. Curse yourself for not removing it sooner.  Realize that you'll need to soak in cleaner if you have any chance of getting mortar from the channel set diamonds.  Kiss husband good bye and watch him walk out the door.

Repeat Steps 4-8 60 times.  Sixty.  As in Six Oh...  Inside, outside.  Measure, cut.  Up the stairs, down the stairs.  Sixty fecking times.

Step 129-ish: Take pictures for face book.  Proudly declare that you still have all your fingers.

Step 130:  Clean up the kitchen.  Put away tile saw.  Wash down counter tops.  Scrape excess mortar off with a razor blade.  Wash tools.  Tally up excess tile. Wash counter tops down again... and again. Curse loudly when you realize you are not going to have enough accent tile to finish the other wall.  Pray that the close out tile store you got it from still has some left from when you bought it, oh... 3 months ago.  Plan to go Monday morning.

Step 131:  Monday morning... lay in bed.  Do the math in your head.  8.6 miles of walking at 4 mph.  60 times in, 60 times out, five stairs each time. 4 hours of stretching over the counter top.  

It looks something like this:

4 MPH (8.6 miles) + 120 X 5(stairs) + 4 hr (stretching) =  1 (really sore butt)

Step 132: Give up on mental math.  Whine about said butt cramps.  Enter husband laughing at you, to which you will tell him to kiss your butt.

And he will.

Just to make it all better.



What?

OH!  Yeah... pictures....

It still needs grout and trim but it's not coming out too bad if I do say so myself....

Before
(Ignore the mess and over exposure)

After...

A Walk With My Husband...

As I mentioned before, this 3-Day training is really, really consuming.  By this morning I had only walked 22.5 of my 31 miles for the week, so at 7 am I was heading out the door to play catch up.

Me: "You wanna come with me on my walk?"
Tony: "Sure."
Me: "Really?  It's a walk though, right?... I don't want to run today."
Tony: "Yeah, that's fine. Youngest you want to go?"

Youngest looks at him, then at me.  "Nope."  Smart boy.... he knows all about my "walks"... poor Tony has no idea what he's in for.

We lace up, Tony grabs some cash, I start up the Map My Run app on my phone, and we head out the door.

Tony: "The church is coming along." (The church by us is doing an enormous addition)
Me: "Yup."
"Youngest says I say that every time I go by."
"You do."
"I know.  And now I'm gonna say it more."
"Even when you're alone in your car?"
"Yup."
"Okay"
"What?  I'm good with the church.  I'm...I'm getting in touch with my inner religious guy."
"Your inner religious guy?"
"Yeah."
"You mean your spirituality?"
"Yeah.  My inner religious guy."

~~~~

Mile check : 1.4 miles

"I thought this was the one mile point?"
"Yeah, it's a little over a mile."
"Oh, so this thing (holds up cell phone) seems to be about accurate."
"Yeah, for walks it's good... not so good for runs. It bounces too much and over calculates when I tuck it in my bra."

~~~~

Mile 1.7-ish

Enter Dunkin Donuts...

He orders a large coffee, I hand him my strawberry milk, and he proceeds to order two donuts.

"You're ordering donuts?  Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"But we're on a WALK."
"Yeah... why do you think I'm walking?"
*sigh*
"Okay, but you're gonna have a stomach ache."

As we walk out the door... "Why?  How far are we walking?"

~~~~

Mile 2.8 I find a trash can for my milk container.  Tony's finished off his donuts, is sipping his coffee and we are in a rather heated "discussion" of the downward spiral of Oldest's video game time allotment.  Not gonna lie folks... Tony and I can talk about everything... except video games and the boys (and virtually anything about Bonus Brother... but that's an entirely different story.).  It's not pretty.  I'll spare you the details.

~~~~

Mile 3.0...

"It's weird how there's No Trespassing signs every where, but there's a Watch For Pedestrians sign as well."
"Maybe they want you to watch for their (meaning the power plant employees) pedestrians."
"Maybe, but it's a public road", I say.
"Maybe they just figure people will be trespassing anyway, so they tell you to watch out for them."

"Oh, I HATE roads like this.  The truck goes by you and you can still see it, but it just gets smaller and smaller."
"This is a long stretch", I say.
Mile 3.9... "I guess it's not that long."

~~~~

Mile 4 consists of a very hilly, heavily populated area of houses... and Tony checked out each and every one.  He likes to scout for ideas we can do at home....
"Think they like the Red Sox?  And an Irish family lives there.  You know how I know?"
"Murphy on the mail box?"
"Irish flag on the pole."
"That's a Porto-gee house right there."
"The Marys on the front lawn?"
"Yip.  Two Mother Marys, One Saint Anthony, A statue of a duck and a bunny."
"The duck and the bunny make it complete though. Does your mother have a Mary statue on the front lawn?"
"Yeah, you've never seen it?"
"Probably just never noticed. But she just has the one... maybe she's not really Portuguese."
"Nah, she's just privately religious."
"Because she only has one?"
"Exactly"

~~~~

Miles 5 and 6 consist of trudging through beach sand and checking out the ocean rolling in. We stopped at the beach general store for a vitamin water, and in true local fashion there was a classic car parked on the curb, hood up, and several men in their 70's discussing engines and horse power. Many of the houses along the beach have been rebuilt and updated since the blizzard.  Every house has a story, and since I delivered the mail there for 10 years, I seemed to know them all.  By mile 7 Tony gave into his tired legs and opted for the shorter, less scenic route home.

"It's almost 9:15.  The day's almost over!  You weren't kidding when you said this was like a part time job."
"I know. I'm glad you came though, it gets kind of boring by myself."
"I'd imagine."

After 8.6 miles, we arrive at home.

Oldest is showered, dressed, and already on the computer.

*sigh*

Youngest is still staking his claim on the couch, gleefully smiling that he's dodged his mamma's bullet.

Tony's now more convinced than ever that I'm trying to kill him.

Monday starts a 35 mile week. Sadly, I think I may be walking them solo.


**In case you missed it, I've been nominated over at Indie Chicks in their Bad A$$ Parenting category   If you feel so inclined, feel free to click the black and white Indie Button on my side bar and vote for your favorites... or me even. ****

Bad Ass Parenting...

5 Am, I vaguely hear footsteps like a herd of elephants come up the stairs.  I close my eyes tighter... "No, it's just a dream... just a dream".  But as the door closed shut and I heard the all too familiar wrenched sounds coming from the bathroom, I knew I was doomed.

"Are you banging in today or am I?" says the husband.

*sigh*

The poor boy was fine all day on Thursday.  He even went on a four mile walk with me.  This morning, not so much.  I hear the puking, the flush, the flush again, and again.... and again.  "Do you need any help in there?" says Tony.  "Nope.  All set." he says, as I hear the shower start up.

I try to foster independence in our house.  Although I still tuck them in each night, I try to hold them accountable for things like cleaning up their mess, homework, and clearing their dinner plates.  Youngest loves to cook, and Oldest helps out with the laundry and mowing the lawn. Clearly, Youngest's taking care of himself makes me think that maybe I'm moving in the right direction here, or that he was more afraid of waking his mother again at an ungodly hour, than he was grossed out by his misfire.

In the end, I stayed home.  If you read my previous post, you know there was not much left to do after my day off, so after a quick 3.5 mile run I was home snuggling on the couch watching Looney Tunes the majority of the day.  There may or may not have been a 3 hour nap involved, and a fantastic dinner, because when you're stuck home with not much else to do you might as well cook up something special.

Within today's down time I happened across a congratulatory email from Miss Janie regarding my nomination for "Bad Ass Status".

Um, my what now?

Now, I've been called a lot of things pen pals, but bad ass isn't one of them.  Fat ass, yes.  Wise ass, smart ass, pain in the ass, all good.  Tony is known often as the entirety of the ass.  But bad ass?  Not-so-much.

So I checked into it... sure enough, someone nominated me and my fat ass.



Upon further checking, I fall into the Mommy Blogger category.

Because someone out there thinks I'm a bad ass parent.

Which is totally different than a bad parent. (Right?  Tell me I'm right.)

So...  If you happen to find yourself some down time this weekend click this link and vote.  Even if you don't vote for me, there's a whole lot of excellent bloggers on the list like Mynx at Lizard Happy, Jewels at according to Jewels, and Life Beautifully Imperfect (formerly Freckles and a Pink Tiara).

As for me this weekend, I'll be taking my bad ass self to work on Saturday, maybe doing a  bit of running, and installing some tile back splash.

That is of course, after I sterilize the house again.

Because this GI bug that Youngest's caught, yeah... that's one bad ass illness.

A Day Off In My Life...

It all starts off like a regular day.  Nope.  It started at 12:11 am when I awoke from a sound sleep to a loud pop and crash. Pretty sure of what it was, I went back to sleep figuring that I could deal with it in the morning.  Turns out, the heater in the salt water fish tank exploded.  Exploded, as in several glass fragments throughout the tank, and rusty elements now exposed to the salt.  No casualties to report, but there is still one of the hermit crabs unaccounted for. So, I start the day mentally calculating how to get it all done, and then I hear it.... Youngest is sick.

*sigh*

But I push through...  Grab a banana, a yogurt, and walk Oldest to the bus stop. Take the scenic route, log 3 miles and head home.

Youngest's head is still buried in the bathroom toilet.  Good times.

Call him in sick, and head outside to tackle the monster in the front yard...

This is the 50 foot tree that stood in front of our house for 40 years.  It had to go, so it went last Thursday.  We have a friend taking all the wood so we had them just drop and leave it for us.  Which was where the real work began.  Tony and I got all the leafy branches stripped a few days ago, but there was still all the big stuff left.  It took all of two hours, but it's all in the garage drying for Tony someone to beg, borrow, find a truck and bring it where it's going....

Then I raked what was left of the debris from the lawn...

I texted Tony the photo and told him that someone had stolen our tree... then headed in for a shower.

Then threw in some laundry and left Youngest on the couch while I went to the dump and got a new heater for the fish tank.  I also hit Home Depot for roofing cement and thin set mortar for this weekend's projects.

Came home, popped the heater in the tank...

Hunky and Dory have a new
 friend Spaz. He's an XL green chromis.

Sorted through all the fund raiser checks I have been holding on to...

Called the rep to pick them up and close the show, then checked on Youngest.  Yip... still puking.  Good, good times.

I sat down to do the bills and discovered there was no money to pay any of them, so I put it all away for next week (read: tree removal, fish tank blow out, food in the fridge).  Then headed towards the garage to count and return the recyclable cans for my 3-day walk.  (To date we've returned 4,798 cans and bottles.)  As I'm headed to the store to return them I see my cousin walking on a really dangerous stretch of road.  But I wasn't sure it was him until I saw him on the way home and picked him up.  I delivered him to his destination and headed home.

Checked on Youngest... seems he's run out of things to puke up.

More laundry, hand Youngest the phone and tell him if he hears a loud THUD to call 911.  Then I head to the roof!!!

With the rain coming it was then or never for getting the roof tar on.  So I hoisted my fat a$$ up there, literally, that's as far as the ladder goes.  You have to roll yourself on from your belly. Can and trowel in tow, I secured the shingles.

I should mention here that I'm afraid of heights.  Hate them. Ah, the joys of  home ownership...

Head down check on Youngest and relieve him of his roof top death watch duties.  I find he's holding down a short bread cookie.  Excellent.

More laundry... seriously. More laundry.

Cleaned the kitchen, unloaded the dishwasher, made a sam'ich, sat down to return some emails, and ended up snuggling on the couch for several episodes of Looney Tunes...

Now that really is good times folks, especially when he's not puking.

The cousin I had picked up earlier came by and hung out for a while, playing Mind Craft with Oldest once he got home from school.  Both kids occupied, I got some paperwork done and threw in yet another load of laundry.

Made dinner.

Did 60 crunches. Cried a little.  Rolled my out of shape abs off the floor and into the kitchen to feed the cat.

Cleaned the kitchen again, attempt to wash dishes and find the sink is clogged.

Snake the kitchen drain.

Sat down... realized I'm sore in places I had no idea I had.

More laundry.

Youngest is holding down his cereal... slow and steady progress...

Torrential down pour outside, no rain in the kitchen.  Roof patches appear to be holding. Bonus. (Too afraid to confirm that by going in the attic.)

Put kids to bed.

Play on internet until I can no longer create a coherent sentence.

Make our bed.

Climb in.

Do. Not. Disturb. (without death wish)


Seriously Pen Pals... Work is my happy place.

Walkin' My Can Off...

It seems pen pals, that I tend not to really think things through when it comes to good deeds.  It also seems that people who know me, know this about me, perhaps better than I do myself.

Let me 'splain...

Back in February I decided to participate in the 3-Day SIXTY mile walk for breast cancer.  Before doing so, I checked into the time frame, ensured Tony would be able to get the days off to tend to the boys, and panicked about the minimum fundraising goals.  And after doing so, with a insane amount of optimism,  I   jumped in ratty old sneakers first.

At no point did I look at the map of where we'd actually be walking. I mean come on?  It's 20 miles a day.  How far could that be?  Um, well at one point evidently I am walking almost to New Hampshire.  No Joke.

At no point did I consider that it's the end of July, historically the HOTTEST fecking weekend of the year.  Which means I'll be backpacking extra socks, tons of Vasoline for the toes, and lots of water. Oh... and since my skin is not just pale but utterly transparent, multiple bottles of 50 SPF sunscreen.

I hadn't even considered it could rain on my parade walk... which will lead to instant chafing and blistering, and the need for multiple pairs of sneakers.

I did not consider that I would have spurs in my heel, or plantar fasciitius.

And I definitely did not consider this....

For those of you that can't read it,
in 3 weeks I'm supposed to walk 41 miles.
Who has time for that????

The training schedule.

Holy feck folks! Training for this walk has become a part time job.  This week's schedule has me walking 31 miles.  At an average rate of 4 MPH, that's an extra 8 hours I need to squish into my week contingent on weather.

I walk Oldest to the bus stop.

I walk Youngest to school on my day off.

I walk Youngest home from school whenever I can get there before the bus leaves.

I walk to the ice cream shop.

I walk to the ocean.

I will be walking to work.  Home from work.  Around work.

I walk down secret paths, on government no trespass zones (that ironically have signs that state "watch for pedestrians"), on the sidewalk, in the beach sand, around the ponds, and through the grave yard.

I have seen humpback whales breaching 200 yards off shore,  a mommy mink carrying her babies off to safety, and WAY more snakes than I care to mention.

I have stretched out, iced up, and gone through 3 sets of insoles so far.

It is not easy.  There are days when I don't have it in me. There are days when I just want to give up, crawl back into bed or spend my day off doing anything but lacing up.  Then I think of WHY I'm doing this. For all those women who don't have that choice.  They have to get up and go everyday. They have to fight through it no matter how bad they don't want to.

And so I will carry on.

Do me a favor though, if you happen to see me in your travels, for the love of all that is holy...

...toss me a water, will ya?

"Because we areWe are shining starsWe are invincibleWe are who we areOn our darkest day,When we're miles away,So we will comeWe will find our way home"- Fun "Carry On"

Read more: FUN. - CARRY ON LYRICS 

Sure Signs You're Raising Boys....

This week's list includes...

Finding an air soft pistol in the bottom of the laundry basket.

Zipping into Walmart with both in tow, and from behind you hearing "No, dude... I'm gonna make a video game character that shoots ninja stars out his butt." (although I'm not sure how practical that would be... or painful.)

While doing laundry you realize that in 14 loads you've only washed two pairs of boys size M boxers.

Rogue farts never go unclaimed.

There are shoes everywhere, all of them sneakers.  Usually accompanied by random sweaty socks.

Attire for school picture day consists of sweat pants and a Tom and Jerry T-shirt.

Another Teaching Moment...

Oldest got suspended in April.

Long story short, it was not his fight, his friend had it handled, but when the bratty ass bully kid hit him, he hit him back.  School policy is what it is, and he was suspended for one day for fighting on the bus.  Seems there's no argument to be had, no negotiating, and no plea bargain anymore as the camera system with audio on both the front and back of the bus tells the entire impartial story.  The other kids got two days, and my son ~even after pleading for in house suspension ~ received one day out of school.

So, being the no way your going to stay home and play on the computer all day kind of mom that I am, took the day off from work, and decided to use this unique opportunity to teach a lesson.  and obtain free child labor.

See, my parents recently acquired a house.  It needs a bit of work, but for my contractor father it's minimal.  However, since this home is stuck in 1984 every wall is covered in wallpaper.  Wall paper that needs to be washed, stripped, then paste removed.  So, for five hours Oldest was at their house stripping wallpaper.  All alone.  In the back rooms of the house.  With nothing but the sprayer and his own voice for company.

And despite how bad I would make it seem, my mother and I were also in kitchen and living room stripping wallpaper as well.  (Except for when Mom ran for donuts and coffee, at which time she insisted he get his state mandated 15 minute break.)

He was not a happy camper.

At the end of the night as I put him to bed I asked what he thought of the day.  He said he'd rather have gone to school. To which I replied, that yes, it would have been easier.  Just like it was easier to use his fists instead of his brains when dealing with the kid on the bus.  And when he chose to do that, he chose to sacrifice his education for the day.  When we sacrifice our education and take the easy way out, these are the jobs available later in life.  Grampy and your Uncle chose this job, they do it because they like it, not because they have to.  It's better to be in a job that you love than a job that you need.

Did the lesson work?

Who knows.

But he never wants to be suspended again.

***And as an added bonus, seems the pansy ass bully kid on the bus that's been bothering him since the first day of school is suddenly steering clear of Oldest now.  Wonder why?***