So Fit & Fluff!

As with so many things in our lives, my man and me are always on the same page.

Over the summer, he had an epiphany that he wanted to get in better shape, (because my gosh, he was such a gluttonous pig before) and put more effort into strength training. 

I applauded this ridiculous idea and said, "well of course, you should totally do this.." because I am a good and sweet wife and always a supporter of the most.ridiculous.idea.ever.

He then followed up this strength training craziness with the idea that he would also run a few more races this year, cause he'd been such a slacker and not really run as much as he should last year. Uhmm, yeah. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Can we get the intervention team together?

I'm like, fine babe, whatever. Run. Strength train. Do it all. But can you pass me a brownie or something?

Similar to me, my man is crazy disciplined. (Stop with the heckling! That's rude.) He doesn't ever agree to anything without serious thought and contemplation. There are no casual "yes's" to anything and he rarely gives an on the spot answer. 

We are so similar.

{**I cannot tell you the times early in our marriage that I would commit us to something only to have him say, "negative ghost rider, YOU just committed, I did not." These are always great moments in marriage, are they not?}

So why did I discount this conversation after 23 years of marriage? Why did I think he's just talking out his butt? Why people? Why??

I have no idea.

Except that I was probably hangry, and he kept talking to me.

Sigh...life.is.hard.

So here I am, preparing for the rainfalll that will surely border the great flood of Noah, and in tandem, my man is preparing for a 1/2 marathon on Sunday. Which is like 2 sleeps away, but people; we are in total "GO" mode.

Me, busy stocking up on necessities like queso & chips...

Him, plotting the course and creating a timeline of the next 41 hours. (No, Not 48 hours, we keep things exact around here!)

Every second counts here people, there may be a national weather event happening across our region, but my man made a commitment, and by golly -he's going to fulfill it. 

Just kill me.

So for your reading enjoyment, here's a piece of our conversation as of late:

Him: "It's been good practice to run in the rain, you never know what the weather will be like on race day."

Me: "Totally my thoughts."

Him: "Are you coming?"

Me: "And miss the opportunity to sleep in, or better yet be stranded in high water with snakes AND strangers? Of course I'm coming!"

Him: "They changed the course, have you figured out where you'll be yet?"

Me: "No. (Because it's 2 sleeps away, you freak of nature!) Do you want to eat Mexican food?"

Him: "Babe, I really need to eat pasta and carb load" (You awful, forgetful woman!!)

Me: "Of course, what was I thinking, I need to carb load too." (Totally the thought I had when I caught my reflection in the mirror as I got into the shower..."Penny, you need more carbs!")

Him: "I'm going to try and be asleep by 10, so I'll probably be in bed by 9 or so..."

People, I have 2 words: party.animal.

I know you are all jealous of my life. Who knew when I married this mullet man that he would lay down the party animal lifestyle for something as glorious as running & training & sleeping and eating schedules? 

Not me.

But I picked him, or he picked me, or we were having a baby, or something like that & so here we are...fit and fluff.(I shortened it, the "y" added extra weight I didn't need.)

He's fit.

I'm fluff.

And together we are always on the same page and equally committed to great causes.

Eat your heart out...(but share a little with me okay?)

-P

a Psychic moment

Today has started a little more amazing than yesterday.which is pretty tough to beat since yesterday my maid was here. So, imagine my surprise when I opened my gmail to find this message awaiting me:

 ..."a psychic has been scheduled for you at 8:17...

Then there is this galaxy solar system type picture, followed by this statement: 

"Chris is the most awarded psychic by his peers" &  

"At some point we all need advice, guidance or assistance..."

People, I've never contacted a physicist, I mean psychic  in my life. (why does this keep auto correcting? and why couldn't Mr. Word Speller Guy have used the letter F instead of a PH? whatever.) But anyhoo...you can only imagine that I'm totally freaked out when my phone rings.
me: "Chris?" Silence.
me: "Hello?" Nothing.

Because, apparently Chris has seen my future and hung up on me.

And that's fine, because I know that Chris is not a psychic based on a few facts...(& yes people,  I've actually given this a moment or two of my time today.):

 #1: On any given day at 8:17 am I'm about as likely to be consulting with the dead as I am running a marathon.
So this is your first strike Chris, & seriously, let's get some things straight, you're sure not trying to hard to help me if we are starting at 8:17 in the morning. Come on!!! I don't even speak to the people who are alive in my own home, I'm sure as heck not chatting it up with dead people or random strangers.

 #2: exactly what kind of people is Chris hanging with, like who are these peers? I've had some pretty stellar moments among close friends and I'm not wearing any blue ribbons or medals.
So Chhhhriiisss (who communes with the dead and can tell my future...) Have you ever kept 4 children, all under the age of 12, who bemoan bathing and were involved in every.single.extra.curricular.activity there parents could get them in?...No? Okay, Well did you raise girls, and by girls I mean intensely hormonal teenagers, the kind that make you curl up in the fetal position or just completely flip out and loose your mind? No? Okay, well, here's an easy one for you Chris. have you made a homecoming mum, & years later your finger tips are still tender to touch because of all your glue gun burns? No...?
Then stop talking Chris, your awards are worthless to me and mine. Real moms don't need awards, we live with battle wounds, dark circles under our eyes & need I mention the fine lines that are settling further into our faces every.single.day.
Boom! Just STOP with your fancy peer awards already.

#3 Chris is correct, we all need advice, guidance and assistance, but he's a little late to this party. I spent 18 YEARS searching for a book on mothering girls and you know what I found? NOTHING! Not a darn thing. As a matter of fact after the first 14 years, I am pretty sure my #1 & #2 would tell you I became an amazing psychic because I could sniff out a bad story before they even walked in the door. (Friends, I'll gladly accept any and all awards for this!)

 So let's just end with this...there's clearly been an error among the cosmos because if you know me at all, you know that my idea of "psychic talk" is telling me that Target is having a sale tomorrow. (If you have this gift, run to your phone and contact me immediately)!
Seriously, that's some guidance I can live with and use!

& Chris, basically what I'm saying here is, You don't have a chance fortune telling to this kind of crazy. So, walk away brother, just walk away.

For my real friends, and all of the psychotic, I mean psychic mothers I run with, & by run, I mean hang out and crawl to the next cupcake, feel free to bring some sage advice on being mother of the year, its getting much more difficult to nab this award now that they've gone to college! 

 Until then, let's just keep it real~