hells yes

Goodbye forever foot doctor. I'm not going to miss the co-pays and bad news.

I'm off to go running. :)

I'm a competitive jerk

Dave and I compete at almost everything. I think it keeps our marriage healthy.

A new game on the iPod means Dave and I will play it nonstop for 3 days to see who can set the absolute top score that neither of us can beat.

Starting the slow and steady process of building up running again has inspired Dave to try running (again) to drop a few pounds and get rid of the roll he calls a backpack. I'm up to 2 minutes of running one minute walking for 3 miles taking it slowly so I don't fuck up my foot again.

(I told Dave all he probably had to do was switch the 3-6 Sam Adams beers he has every night with water and it would probably melt off without any effort. He didn't like that answer.)

Dave had his third run yesterday. He told me the route and how long it took him and while he was still talking I logged into MapMyRun.com to figure out how far it really was and what his pace was.

Last night I was laughing about my score on a dumb Facebook IQ test. The moment I left the room he was off hunting down a IQ test we could take to see who is smarter. I got to gloat for 10 minutes over my 134 score until he finished his test, scoring 4 points higher.

I'm going to have to come up with some kind of bake off where I can stack the deck and finally kick his ass at something.

a new kind of weapon

I spent the whole 20 minutes the pizza was in the oven patting myself on the back over the best pizza dough yet. So stretchy I could get it paper thin and see light through it without it tearing.

Perfect.

Almost.

What do you get when you forget to put yeast in the dough?

Unleavened, hard as a rock, pizza.

Passover Pizza.

9 of the 10 plagues inflicted on the Egyptians could have been skipped if they just started chucking some of my pizza. Thrown just right this thing could have taken someone's head off.

the dirtiest word of them all

How many times in one day can I say "What the Fuck?"

The ED called Dave to figure out how to handle transferring Alex back to us. She was planning on dropping him off at our house but 3 hours early.

Dave: "ok"

ED: "I'm getting my hair done then I have an interview for a J-O-B cuz we need the M-O-N-I-E"

So that is what constitutes a dirty word in your house. All regular swear words and racist statements are thrown around without a second thought but HEAVEN FORBID you say the dirtiest word of all. job.

A few minutes later Dave gets a call from the place she has an interview with and the ED is beeping in again. The interviewer says she will call back in a few minutes.

ED: "I forgot to tell you I put you down as a reference but I don't remember what I said you were. It was either clergy or instructor. Say nice things bout me OK?"

I hit the roof and ranted and raved for a few minutes until the interviewer calls back.

Dave: "***** is my son's biological mother. I do not feel like I can have an unbiased opinion about her reliability"

She might have to continue looking for a J-O-B.

Sick sucks

The kids and I are sick. Some kind of nasty chest cold thing that makes us hack up little evil aliens and fever attacks that come and go. It has been here for almost a week without an end in sight.

The kids just want to sit and cuddle with me and I don't want to be touched.

Dave was trying to lighten the mood in the house and picked up bicycle horns for the kids.

I know exactly where he can stick those horns.

sign language

I started learning sign language when my niece was born.

Some would say "Oh how nice that is..." Me? I say I'm a dumb fuck for not learning it earlier for my sister in law. Instead I made her try to read my lips.

The more I learn the more I realize I have to use it every day all day or I forget signs and look like an idiot.

Like at the grocery store when I wound up in the checkout line with the guy that has a cochlear implant. Obviously he knows sign language so I try to show off my new skills. He knows I'm learning so he tries to guess what I'm trying to say.

I'm standing there fanning myself with my hand because I'm hot and sweaty from hauling ass through the store.

He thinks I'm saying I'm happy.

I tell him I am happy but I'm really just hot and trying to cool myself off. Except instead of saying "I'm hot" I said "I'm gay hot". I didn't know what I said until a few days later when my sister in law clued me in.

The checkout guy's laughter makes a whole lot more sense now.

Dave has tried teaching Olivia HIS version of sign language too. Unfortunately she's picking it up a little too fast.

You know its going to be a bad day

You know its going to be a bad day when you...

...want to rip your uterus out.

...have to use hand lotion on your face because you fucked around with your hair for too long and ran out of time getting ready so you brought your makeup to work and left your moisturizer at home.

...fuck around with your hair for a long time "trying something different" then undo everything and go back to the same ol' thing.

...have some serious road rage and yet its early enough that no one else is out driving yet.

...run out of quarters and have to pack both front pockets full of dimes to feed the parking meter.

...realize the office coffee shop closed a month ago and you just now figure it out. Even the security guard that sleeps all day knew it was closed.

Random

I don't know what to say lately. There is so much in my head right now I'm having a hard time finishing one full thought let alone write it down.

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Did I seriously sit in a 2 hour meeting this week with my company's CEO and the only thing I remember from the meeting is he looks a little bit like John Ritter. but older.

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Dave wants to schedule a vasectomy. Its all feeling so final... A few pangs of regret and I'm wondering if I could (or should) talk him out of it. I would be WAY more OK with this if I knew Olivia would be my only pregnancy.

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Now that I'm back on the treadmill its a little reminiscent of when I first quit smoking and I would see Dave's cigarettes on the counter.

My hand hovering over the speed button having a pretty serious internal debate. 1 mph faster wont make that big of a difference will it? Shut up and wait. But I know I can do it. Shut up and wait, only 3 weeks left before we see the foot doc again. BUT I WANT TO.

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Dave has his workshop in the basement. Occasionally metal shavings work their way upstairs and we sometimes step on them. It hurts but they're usually quick to yank.

Olivia had a big one stuck deep in her foot and we tried everything. Bribing, coaxing, distracting and letting it sit for a week to see if it would work itself out. It got sore enough that she wouldn't even walk around on her tiptoes anymore. In the end Dave had to hold her down so I could dig it out.

That was two days ago. She still hasn't forgiven Dave and she reminds me a couple times a day that I hurt her foot. It doesn't matter that its better now, she feels betrayed and I feel pretty fucking guilty.

Dave is still trying to bribe his way back into the sunshine of her love. After he gives her something she tells him "I don't like you".