The Thirty Second Vacation

I once heard the comedian Louis C.K. (he's not for everyone, I'll admit.) say that every parent gets a thirty second vacation. It's that brief moment when you have buckled them into their car seat, shut the door and walk over to your own seat. In that small window of time there is silence from the incessant toddler chatter and it is a little bit of heaven. A thirty second vacation.

Between the yelling of poo-poo pants (inside the bathroom only, but still...), non-stop questions that she has asked everyday, at the same time and just the noise. Oh, the noise. It never ends. I might just put the kids in the car and start circling it. You know, check the tires, my pockets, make sure my side mirrors are in the correct position and basically just get a few laps in. I'll crack the windows. Don't worry.

Read all about it!
"Blogher is Coming! Like the British Just Not as Detrimental."

My partial summer reading list is over at Role Mommy! Also, here's the radio show I did with Beth earlier this month if you care to listen.

Can You Feel That? It's the Awesomeness.

Scene: H and I are enjoying a moment of quiet. Also known as bedtime for the kiddies. We're discussing upcoming events in our lives, including Blogher.

H: You know, you should really post more about how awesome I am.

I raise an eyebrow.

H: I should also leave more comments because my awesomeness would totally radiate out from the computer.


On another note I had what can only be described as a pre-blogher anxiety dream.

I was traveling to Chicago from Virginia by train. How much would that sucketh? I missed my connecting train and the station, which at some point was floating on a sea of icebergs, lost my luggage. To top it all off some blogger I hate (who does not actually exists) was on my train with an ex-boyfriend of mine. I decided to be sweet and nice and chatted with them.

Five minutes into the conversation I find out they are getting married. As I'm about cough out a stunned "Congratulations!" (why on earth anyone would marry this guy is beyond me.) I realize that he is wearing a dress and ladies belted trench coat. And? The most hideous purple wedge heels ever known to man. I can't make this stuff up people. I blinked. Looked at this blogger and realized she totally knew she was marrying a man who dressed as a woman and thought, "Well, OK. Better her than me I suppose..." and moved on.

Later I find out that TD has been kidnapped and I am posting about it on Twitter for leads. Twitter totally helped me find my kidnapped kid.

I kid you not Internets. That was one twisted social media mess of a dream.

Zen in the Locker Room

The ladies locker room at my gym has never been a place I frequented until recently. Sick of driving home stinky and coated in sweat post-workout I decided that it was easier to pack a bag and shower there. My first venture into the locker room wasn't the best. I'm not down with being surrounded by other sweaty bodies (it's the germophobe in me.) or when people just leave their underwear on the floor outside their locker. Yes, really.

Today however was different. After running a particularly tough turn on the elliptical (intervals can be such a bitch) I sauntered in and decided to use the TV room (why there is a room with a couch and TV in the locker room I'll never know) as my personal space. I stretched, did a bit of yoga and then decided, "Screw it." I'm just going to lay here on the floor. I cranked up my ipod and closed my eyes. It was only about ten minutes but I swear I felt my blood pressure drop with each cleansing breath. I had managed to block out the world and carve a small piece for myself where my mind shut off ever so briefly and everything was still. It was magic.

Showering, dressing and doing my hair and make-up without so much as a toddler peep or infant trying to eat hairballs off the bathroom floor was just a bonus.

And now? Now, I'm excited to go back to the gym tomorrow just so I can find my moment of zen in the locker room again. Next thing you know I'll be throwing 'rat tails' at passersby.


I'm gearing up for the Blogher 5K next week. I feel my time will be slow as I haven't had much run time in the last few weeks. However, I have composed a new playlist (30 min.)that is helping to keep me motivated. Use it if you wish!

Slow Ride, Foghat (I find this to be the perfect opening to a run.)
Life Less Ordinary, Carbon Leaf
Maneater, Hall & Oates (yes, I'm a H&O fan. Shut it.)
American Boy, Estelle-featuring Kanye (of course!)
Bad Reputation, Joan Jett
Heavy Cross, Gossip
The Denial Twist, White Stripes
Fight the Power, Public Enemy (so good for when I'm feeling tired and like I can't go on.)
Don't Stop Believin', Journey (I hate Journey. This song though makes me think of singing in bars with girlfriends, puts a smile on my face and is a good way to end a run. To me at least.)

Mortality Looking Me Square in the Eye.

Last Friday I had my ultrasound appointment for my right breast. In the days leading up to it I could barely sleep. I felt exhausted mentally and then physically.

Each night I would lie down and my brain, lethargic during the day would instantly whir to life. All the cogs moving at warp speed and what felt like a million thoughts began zipping along my own personal information super highway. I wasn't trying to be full of doom and gloom but with the pain persisting in my breast there was this constant reminder that something just wasn't right. I dreaded the ultrasound but couldn't wait for my questions to be answered. I couldn't take this lack of sleep and constant feeling of worry settling in my stomach. Questioning your mortality is one thing but throw in a husband and two kids into the mix and I began to question myself and feel a sense of guilt if something was actually wrong.

But it's not. It's apparently quite common for women to have this knot under their nipple even weeks after weaning. The pain is gone after icing and the knot has gone down considerably. It has been an immense relief and yet my brain has not been able to calm down. The idea that my mortality was looking me square in the eye has been a bit too much for me to swallow. It's left me uneasy and I can't seem to shake it. I keep thinking there is another shoe that will dropping shortly and I don't know why. I feel like a shadow of something is always one step behind me and I really want to kick it's ass.

Flashback Monday: Lucky Star

I was probably about eight at the time. I called myself Aubany(with an 'O' and some sort of accent on the end. Yeah, I have no idea either. I was eight.).

I thought I was Madonna with my permed hair, sunglasses and ballet skirt. I guess that was as close to the 'Like a Virgin' look my Mom would let me get at that age. And yes, I'm sportin' a yellow banana clip in my hair. On one side only. Now that is style.

The Backwards Mullet & Chocolate World

While I'm not a fan or avid viewer, this woman just nails Kate Gosselin.

Kate Gosselin Match.com Profile Video - watch more funny videos

Opening Pandora's Bra?

I was watching the movie, Glory, the other night. I seriously love that movie. The first time I saw it, twenty years ago (gulp!) I cried for 45 minutes after it was over. I broke my rule of not crying in front of my family too. Maybe it was the sight of all those chest wounds that got me thinking, "I haven't done a breast exam since before I was pregnant with The Comedian". So I did one right there as I sat in my darkened den taking in the Civil War flick. What? As if weirder things haven't happened on your couch.

That's when I found it. The gumball-sized lump laying underneath my right nipple. I should have known there would be something. It had been sore for the last day or so and I had just said to H that weekend, "You know, I am always dealing with your little sprains, bouts with crutches, stitches and ER visits. It just makes me think that you are going to have to deal with something big with me." Cue ominous organ music.

I felt some more. I felt the left side again too. Then I asked H to feel it. Yup. There is indeed something there. It was tender to the touch and not the least bit pleasing. H told me I was a hypochondriac who was just freaked out about some email I had gotten regarding larvae infesting a woman's breasts through her bra. Gut instinct however, told me to call the doctor. Especially after noticing some swelling and not being able to sleep on my stomach any longer. There seemed to be some discoloring as well.

The doctor looked it over, felt me up and proclaimed it, "I'm not sure. Let's get an ultrasound to see what is going on there." She gave me sad eyes that seemed filled with concern and uncertainty and sent me on my way. I'm icing it per her advice and the swelling has gone down. I have an ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. I think it will turn out to be a cyst or a clogged duct left over from weaning The Comedian a few weeks back. However, one can't be overly confident about these things. I had to get it checked out. After all, it could be something else entirely and I just need to be sure. For my own sanity's sake and if I want to get all morbid, for my kids sakes as well.

I would really like to keep remembering 'Glory' as the film I cried for 45 minutes over and not something else.