You bit your what????

I walked into Brandons room last night to find him biting his toenails.  I was appalled.  Who bites their toenails?  I nearly barfed on the spot but instead I walked downstairs and all in a kerfluffle I loudly said, "BRANDON WAS JUST BITING HIS TOENAILS."  I expected my husband to be just as grossed out as me but instead he said, "so, you never bit your toenails?"


His next reply was to, "go to Facebook and ask how many people bit their toenails."  But my blog is bigger then Facebook so I'm asking you….Is it really common for people to bite their toenails???? 


In other news I'm on a mission to find a new razor.  I see my podiatrist today.  I made extra sure to shower last night and shave and I woke up this morning with cheese grater legs.  I need a better razor.  I currently use a Venus one and I'm over it.  I'm so tired of going to doctors or pedicures and having spikey sharp legs.  What do you guys recommend?  If I wasn't such a pussy I would probably try waxing but honostly I don't want to pay for that.


It's getting warm here in Reno.  I went running yesterday and I was thrilled that I ended up with boob sweat.  I don't know why but to me that is always a sign of a good work out.  So running in all this cold weather was totally eliminating my PROOF of the workout.  I also ran up a big hill.  Guess what?  i don't like hills.  Hate hills.  I'm going to run up another hill tomorrow.  But oww.


There is a kid at Brandon's school who is being a total dickhead every morning.  The mornings his mom has been there she has let him get away with it.  But yesterday was the last straw.  While they were playing with their Beyblades the kid got upset and began spitting on the other kids toys.  He spit on Brandon and two other kids toys.  His mom wasn't there so he got away with it for a minute before another mom stepped in that knew his family and stopped him.  This kid has been a menace and I just don't know what to do.  First of all, I don't want Brandon thinking that is okay.  Since it is before school there are no teachers out there, so I'm not sure what good it would do to tell the teacher.  His mom hasn't been there the last three days so I can't even talk to her.  All I know is IT IS NOT OKAY AT ALL TO SPIT ON TOYS.  It's not okay to do the other things he does either.  What do I do?  Talk to the teacher?  Hunt down the mom?  I swear my instinct is to spit on this little asshole kid, but I WON'T…I promise. 


I get to see my foot doctor today.  I hope he can get some orthodics covered by insurance because running hurts like a mother fucker.  I pronate, and I have shin splints and a fractured ankle and….on and on and on.  I need something to help with this shit.  Yesterdays run up that hill was hard.  I forgot to take Excedrin before and I felt every single step.  I ran slow because of the pain and at the end of the run I was pissed off with my time.  I need to get my legs all fixed up so I can run faster.  I ran with Rob on Sunday and Y'all he made me feel slow.  I could hear him behind me and it sort of sounded like he was just skipping along.  Later I asked about his time.  He can run an 8 minute mile.  That day I was running a 12 minute mile.  Yesterday I ran a 14 minute mile because of the pain.  EIGHT MINUTE MILE.  He might as well have just been walking next to my slow ass 12 minutes huh?

Okay.  Thats all now.  Enough randomness for one day!


I was going to tell you all a story about the time my grandma had me go in her little shed because ther was "a few spiders" and she needed something out of it, only I went in there to find the "few" spiders was really more like 400 spiders all dead and stuck to these little spider trap mats and I nearly shit myself from the sight of it.  Only then I googled to find an image of the little spider mat thingies and I just about gave myself a heart attack.  I am now convinced my house is currently being invaded by mutant spiders that can't be killed by any spray and that will bite me and destroy the cells of my body and turn me to mush and then feed off of that mush and then….


Commence panic attack now


(PS there would have been an image in this but my blog is smarter then me right now and I cannot make it upload photos)

(PPS This should be my post it note tuesday post but I can't upload pictures, so imagine the post above on little sticky notes mmkay)

Excedrin Wins..and I totally just wrote an episode of Criminal Minds

Excedrin.  I finally found something that made my ankles stop hurting.  Unfortunately it also comes with a side of caffeine which left me hopping around the office like a bunny rabbit yesterday.  I went and ran yesterday and I so didn’t want to.  I knew Rob was picking up Codi so I got the idea that I would text him and tell him that if he saw me to stop and get me.  But then it occurred to me that he would just pretend he didn’t see me, take a back route and make me run the whole three miles.  So I didn’t text him.  I did pass him, rather he passed me and you know what he did?  He made fun of my socks. 

They looked similar to these socks:

Only bright pink and red.  Yes.  I went running down the street with bright pink and red knee socks.  Which is like wearing a blaring pink and red sign that says HEY SEE ME AND MY SOCKS DON’T RUN ME OVER K!

Onto the episode of Criminal Minds.  Last week on Monday I was running past these apartments.  Across the street from the apartments is the giant group mail box thingie.  In front of that in the lawn they had those signs out;



Etc.  And right in front of those signs was a van.  I saw a dude leaving the mail box and walking toward the van.  I’m thinking, "okay dude got his mail now he’s gonna get in the van and go home." 


He didn’t get in the van.  Instead he started pulling the signs out of the ground.  So first I think, "maybe they don’t have any more vacancies."  But then my mind starts reeling and I think….

"OMFG This guy is going to take these signs out and then put them back in and take them out all day until the right girl runs by him.  Then he will grab her, throw her in the van and kill her."  I of course freaked out from there thinking I must not have been his type and that clearly this guy was a murderer.  What a great ploy right?  Put the signs in, take the signs out, oh look skinny little white chick, KILL MURDER DIE.  

I let it go.

Then two days later I went running by again AND THE SIGNS WERE BACK PEOPLE.


The van was still there too.  Cars can’t be parked there.  I freaked out.  Totally freaked out.  I knew it.  I told myself I would run home and get on the internet and start Googling right away if there were any unsolved rapes in the area.  I told Ginger about it and her idea was that maybe they just took the signs down for the wind.  Which I would have believed IF I WASN’T RUNNING ON THE WINDIEST DAY OF THE WEEK AND THE SIGNS WERE BACK OUT.

I ran by yesterday and the van and signs were gone.  I don’t know what this means.  Does he know I’m on to him?  Did he move on to a new apartment complex?  I’m totally freaked out about this whole situation.  Where did the signs go?  Why were they there two days ago and gone again?  I want to drive by today and look for the signs.  


Running is totally kicking my ass in the way of manifesting every person into a murderer.  The guy sleeping in the bus stop, yeah he’s gonna run after me and stab me with a knife.  The gardeners, yeah they are going to throw me in their trailer and torture me.  The guy running up the street towards me, yeah he is going to turn around, run towards me and KILL ME RIGHT ON THE ROAD.

I think I need to be grounded from TV!

In which I dispell my moms belief that I don't talk about sex

There is a lake near me that I HATE to go in.  Yet every year I get dragged out to this lake.  I don’t know why.  It’s one of those…everyone has memories of this lake so let’s always go there lakes.  I have memories too.  Those memories are the reason I HATE THE LAKE. 

There are two memories of why I’m absolutely revolted by this lake.  Aside from the local rumors.  Aside from the "lake turning."  I have my own two reasons why I’m grossed out by this lake.

Reason 1:

Once while riding along on my Jet Ski I looked over to my right and saw….A dead floating dog.  A white poodle.  With a collar.  Just floating.  It’s legs were all sprawled out like it had first been flattened before drowning.  The demented part is after that I drove around trying to get closer to it to see the collar because for a moment I thought, "maybe these people would like to know their dog is floating dead in the lake."  But the waves of the Jet Ski moved the dog and I never saw her (I decided it was a her) again.  From then on all I’ve done is think about that dog rotting to pieces in the lake and that every time I choke down some water I’m choking down a little bit of rotten poodle fur and flesh. 

Reason 2:

Once.  While riding around on the Jet Ski’s with my boyfriend (now husband) we decided we wanted to have sex.  Only problem was I was on my period.  And despite my moms belief that I’m a prude I REALLLY WANTED TO HAVE SEX.  Yes.  In day light.  In the middle of the lake.  On a Jet Ski.  So I did the only logical thing.  I told my boyfriend to turn around, hopped in the lake, pulled out my tampon and threw it.  Then we did what we came there to do.  I went back there a year later and the whole time I was there all I could do was think I’M SWIMMING IN PERIOD BLOOD RIGHT NOW. 

It got me wondering what else is in the lake.  What else do I wash out of my hair when I get home?  How many other people have had sex in that lake?  Just how much sperm, dog parts and blood do people swim in. 

Whats the grossest thing you have ever done/seen in a body of water?

How exactly do you choose the right underware for running….and other things

Today’s underwear are already creeping up my ass & Wednesdays undies were no better.  How exactly do you pick comfy undies for running?

At what point do you say that is far enough.  I’ve only been running two weeks and I’m attempting to run 3.4 miles today.  That is far (to me) but am I pushing it too far?  Should I be running this far this fast and Sunday am I supposed to aim for 4 miles?  At what point do you stop upping your distance?

I’m afraid of hills…there is a teeny hill today AM SCARED.

When does this shit stop hurting?

I want to enter a race….am I ready for that.

I like tight fitting running pants (ie spandex leggings type) rather then yoga type pants…makes a huge difference.

I smell like a trucker after I run. So imagine how I will smell today after wearing the same running pants twice…I accidentally grabbed the already worn ones instead of the clean ones.  Is there a smell worse then a trucker????  That will be me in an hour.

I’m going running right now…in 20ish mph winds…no one is here at work.  Who is going to catch me when I blow away?


**Update**  Went and ran 3.3 miles. Underwear were fine.  It appears they only bother me while I’m sitting at my desk.  So I finally have one pair of running approved panties YAY ME.

I have two goals in life…to be a good mom and to do right by my dad

If it wasn’t his business and his life I would sit down some day and blog about my dads history (my actual dad not the birth father).  His life is….interesting.  Some of his stories would make for the worlds best blog.  But this much I can tell you.  His family sucks.  Not all of them, there are two decent ones in the bunch but the rest SUCKS.  He doesn’t say a lot, ever.  This has always bothered me because in my  mind that means he must be turning over and over the events of his life in his head.  It drives me crazy.  I’m not stupid. I know the things his family does, they bother me, they must bother him.  Yet somehow he’s created…this amazing life.  He’s given me EVERYTHING.  When I got pregnant I didn’t really know how he would react.  He was happy.  He wanted it to be a boy and from that moment on I WANTED IT TO BE A BOY.  I knew, that having a boy would give him lifelong joy.  I knew this because I KNEW MY KIDS WOULD NOT GROW UP TO BE IDIOTS. 

My first goal as a mom is to just have normal kids.  Happy ones.  Kids who play sports (T-ball & skiing, check).  Kids who have friends.  Listen to good HAPPY music. Draw, laugh, play, climb things and pick on Papa (my dad).  But my goal doesn’t stop there.  Because I want them to be that way as adults.  I hope HOPE that when they are 30 they are still picking on Papa.  Hiding stuff in his car, or playing pranks or even teaching their kids how to mess with him.  

There are so many things wrong with kids now.  The ones that bother me the most are the kids without drivers licenses.  Why?  My God when I was 16 I was at the DMV on that exact day all dressed up and ready to drive.  Now kids don’t care because they don’t leave.  They play games, they stay in their room listening to depressing music, they…I dunno they STAY AT HOME.  I want to kick those parents.  There is a girl that works for me.  Her son can’t get a job.  They all act like they don’t know why.  It makes me so mad. You raised him on hard core mosh hate music, dressed him in all black, allowed him to do nothing but play WOW while talking to girls online and never leaving the house.  Now he is 21 can’t drive and can’t get a job.  NO SHIT SHERLOCK.  

My goal…is to never become the kind of parent who finds that okay.  My boys have a Nintendo DS.  Today is the first time they played it in a month.  They rock out….but to happy music that says fun stuff instead of KILL SMASH DIE HATE music.  They dress nice.  I bathe them regularly.  I try to do stupid things to make them happy (like show up to Brandon’s school with his favorite chocolate milk after class because I know he is always thirsty, or cutting his sandwich into the shape of a heart, or laying out his favorite soft jammies in winter because I know how much he loves soft things).  

But one thing I know for sure.  I will always try and keep my crazy a secret.  I don’t plan to tell them I take medication because I don’t want to implant that stigma in their mind.  I’d hate for them to be like me and think…well if my birth dad was crazy maybe I am too.  That shit manifests into your mind bad.  I won’t do that to them.  I just want happy kids.  I want kids who go to school, graduate, do homework, have girlfriends that are cute and normal and I want kids that don’t smoke cigarettes.  

I realize these are all things that will only happen if I PARENT RIGHT. 

Like I said I had two goals.  Be a good mom and do right by my dad.  Like I said he gave me everything.  He already gives my boys everything (maybe too much everything, if I never see another box of cupcakes it won’t be too soon) and I just want to give it all back to him.  I want to give him two grandsons who love him.  Two grandsons who fish with him, who stuff snow down his pants, who always wanna jump on his back and play "ride em cowboy", who run in and show him good grades, who play sports so he has games to go watch.  I want to use my own children to repay him for what he has done for me.  I want my kids to be the thing that changes his day.  That changes his life.  Already they show him unconditional love.  My kids love him more then me and my husband combined I think.  They love him just because he is Papa and for nothing else and every day all I think is, "I don’t want that to ever stop."  For the rest of his life I want him to have one thing that is constant and GOOD, that he has two little buddies who thinks he taught Superman to fly, while hanging the moon, and being made of steel.  

He is a quiet man.  We don’t talk a lot so I’m sure he doesn’t know how often I think of him.  How much I appreciate him.  How much it bothers me that a man like that ended up with a family like he did and how thankful I am I managed to have not one but TWO little boys who will forever think he is the world.  I’m thankful for it too.  Because it keeps me on my toes as a mom.  It reminds me every day why I need to raise good boys.  Why I need to teach them right from wrong.  Why drugs, or bad music, or bad friends will never be an option.  

I’m thankful for the four boys (husband too) in my life, those boys save my life every day without even knowing it….and to think, I wanted a girl when I was little.

Some clarification for my husband

My husband read my previous post where I discussed running outside.  I also discussed him getting a little teary eyed reading that I had gone running outside.  He would like me to clarify that what must have happened is while he was reading my text two pieces of dust flew into his eyes causing them to get a little misty.  He was not crying or anything…as you can see:

If you are wondering, He is in gray.  He was saying he was scared about becoming a vegetarian for Lent.  His reference about it being a big deal is that I DO NOT RUN OUTSIDE.  I’ve been adamant, I’ve refused, I’ve said it hurts, that I’m afraid, every excuse in the book.  I did not want to run outside.  I barely wanted to run.  I did not want to run in the rain.  I did not want to run in the snow.  I did not want to run while eating Green Eggs and Ham.  So he knows what  A HUGE deal it is for me to run.  Which must be the reason that dust flew into his office at work…you know the enclosed office with closed windows.  INSIDE.

Just clearing it up for you all…he was NOT CRYING or anything!!!!

I hate raw eggs and five other things you might not know about me

1.  I have a geographical & fissure tongue.  If I showed you a picture you would probably break up with me.  Google it.  I dare you.

2. I really enjoy picking my pimples.  I know. I know gross right BUT I CAN’T NOT DO IT.  Imagine my frustration when there is one dead center in my back and I can’t reach it.  Talk about Chinese water torture…Only no water involved.

3. I love potatoes.  LOVE. I will eat them any way.  With one exception.  Potato pancakes because they involve EGGS.  Eggs belong either hard boiled, fried until they are solid all the way through or baked into cakes.  NO OTHER WAY IS ALLOWED.  Eggs on french toast NO.  Meranges NO.  Royal icing NO.  On my finger after I crack open an egg OMFG HELL NO GET IT OFF ME NOW NOW NOW NOW I’M GOING TO FREAK OUT PANIC GET IT OFF.  Egg on my floor…..I’d probably rather die then deal with raw egg on my floor. 

4. I run to rap music.

5. Every time I sweep the floor (hardwood) I can’t help but wonder how much of what I’m sweeping up is boogers.  When you vacuum you don’t think much about it….but sweeping hard wood….don’t you kind of wonder how much of what is on your floor is boogers?


Bet you do now.


Bonus 6th item: I just discovered I have chin hair….I don’t know what to do about this!