No Wonder They Cancel School So Much

I went out to our school's website to jot down the snow make up days (9 of them by the way) and this picture was on the webpage. This road runs along one of the elementary buildings on campus. The snow is just about as tall as the school bus. No wonder they keep cancelling school.

Moral Compass

How bad is it when a 3 year old is your moral compass? Forget being a preschool genius...he's a mini frickin' Dahli Lama.

Last night I was screaming at Brendon to clean his room, this after weeks of asking nicely, which quickly lead to an argument over what he felt he needed to pick up or was responsible for verses what I felt he needed to pick up and was responsible for. You've been there, right?! When their idea of clean is MUCH different than your idea of clean. And as I am screaming down the stairs and he is screaming up the stairs, all of a sudden I realize Jace is standing on the couch looking over the bannister saying something as well. I couldn't believe my ears, once the screaming stopped ringing in them, he was saying, "hey calm down!" and I realized he had been saying it more than once. I was shocked, I mean...who taught him that anyway? Then I had to laugh.

So much for setting a good example. I guess I need to review that writing, "everything I need to know about life, I learned in kindergarden". Once again, Jace is way ahead of the game.

Further proof that men are clueless...

See this cute pair of jeans Ken bought and sent Jace home in.







I'm sorry...I meant see this cute pair of GIRL jeans Ken bought and sent Jace home in. Do you see the little embroidered hearts on the back pocket? You can't really see it in the picture but the ankles actually flair out a little too - like they are boot cut.

He swears he bought them in the boys department but he obviously didn't pay much attention to detail.

These will not be leaving the house again - atleast not on Jace's back side. Anyone know a little girl who wears a 2T?

Preschool Genius

Jace starts preschool Monday. I called to get him signed up for the fall but they had an opening to finish out the school year in the 2 year old room so we took it.

Little do they know what I little Einstein they are getting. A couple weeks ago at day care, they had some free coloring time where they could draw anything rather than color a preprinted page. Jace told me he was drawing a boat but he didn't say the boat was one of Christopher Columbus' fleet - see below. He keeps his brillance so understated. I wondered why on the way home that day he was chanting "in 1492 - Columbus sailed the ocean blue". HAHA - just kidding!

Fraidy Cat!

While waiting to dose off to sleep the other night I was reminded of a childhood fear I had. It was highly irrationally but made total sense back then...who am I kidding, I still use the logic sometimes even now.

My fear was that I could NOT sleep without being covered up atleast from the waist down. It could be something as light as just the sheet but I HAD to be covered atleast that much. My theory was that a killer that broke into our house in the night would not stab me in the back as long as I was covered from the waist down. Would not stab me in the back if my waist down was covered. Makes NO sense right? Like I said, completely irrational, but it allowed me to then feel safe and sleep soundly in my bed. To this day, I still do not sleep without the covers being atleast at the waist. I may kick them off my legs from time to time but somehow the waist stays covered. It has too.

I have other irrational fears. I have a HUGE, consuming fear of birds. No, not caused by the Hitchcock classic movie - never seen it, never will! I don't know where this fear comes from. It used to be that they just grossed my out. I would think about their rounded bellies being all full of blood and guts and how if one were to be smashed into the pavement, that is all you would see is all the blood and guts. Sorry, should have given a "reader discretion is advised" warning.

Over the course of my fear of birds, it grew into the fear of being attacked by a bird. I once had a hanging flower basket on the railing of my porch only to discover that a bird had built a nest in it. I came home one day to find said bird sitting in my flower basket, in my mind, blocking my safe entry into my home. So, I got my umbrella out and shielded myself with it passed the bird and into the house. When the bird was away, I moved the flower basket off the railing and onto the patio so that the bird could still nuture it's eggs yet I could get in and out of my house without having to run and at dead sprint. I thought for sure the bird would sense by smell or something where her eggs were, just a few feet away on the patio, but she never found where I had moved the nest and the eggs didn't make it. I think they call that manslaughter when you kill someone accidentally - babybirdslaughter in this case. For days I would look out the window and see that mother bird perched on the railing longing for her babies. I was, at that point, a prisoner in my own home. I would not leave the house if that bird was out there for fear she would attack me. Later I would see a similar bird perched on my neighbor's house overlooking my yard. I was certain it was actually the same bird and had visions of that mother bird swooping down and carrying off one of my small children in retaliation.

Now all of that was just over your garden variety bird of no particularlly threatening size. Well, not to anyone who doesn't have a fear of birds that is. So, imagine how paralyzing my fear of large birds might be? I have read stories in our local paper of people in our town being attacked by wild turkeys. My greatest fear realized! An semi-elderly woman had to climb on type of her car to get away. There also have been cases just outside of our town on a major interstate were wild turkeys have flown into and crashed through windows of traveling vehicles. Crashed into - ending up IN the vehicle WITH the driver.

Let me just stop there for a second to note that as I write all of this...my chest is tightening and my heart beating harder. If something like that happened to me...I would totally have a heart attack and die right there on the spot. My heart would STOP! NO KIDDING!

Once I took my kids to a zoo whose bird exhibit was open - meaning you walked amongst them. You could not get through to the other parts of the zoo without going through the bird exhibit so unless we were going to turn around and go home without seeing the lions and tigers and bears (oh my) thus ruining my children's day, I had no choice. I tried to just look straight ahead and walk quickly. As we rounded a curve in the path, off to my left what before my wondering eyes should appear but the peacock family. Not the largest of the birds in the exhibit....no, that would be the emu I saw to my right. I was fa-reeaked out! I tried to stick to the plan of hurrying through and were almost passed the peacocks when one of them started screeching. I screamed, grabbed my son by the shirt and cowarded behind him, pushing him further along the path crouched below his shoulders. My son was I think 11 at the time who even now at 14 is only something like 4 ft 10 inches tall. And here is his mother putting him between her and this flesh riping, meat from the bone picking creature so that she didn't get attacked. Great motherly instincts huh?! It was that irrational fear that took over. All I could think about was that bird attacking me - I was soooo scared!

Almost as bad as my fear of birds is a fear of cats. That fear is again of being attacked - of being pounced on. 14 years ago, the night before a friend's wedding, all the bridesmaids (of which I was one) spent the night at her house so that we could all go to the church together. This friend had about 6 persian cats. Another girl and I were sleeping on the sectional in the living room as the panthers and mountain lions roamed around us. I would wake up and to find one of the staring at me. I couldn't shake that stare. I got up and went to the bathroom and when I opened the door like 4 of them were sitting in the hallway blocking my save return to the couch. I ran and jumped back on the couch and then woke up the other girl to protect me. I wouldn't let her get a wink of sleep the rest of the night. Whenever a sensed the beasts closing in, I would kick her awake, "Stacy, there are going to get me!". HA. She still gives me a hard time about that night. But the fear had practically paralyzed me. I just kept imagining them all on top of me scratching and biting and clawing my eyes out. Too many of them to fight off - helpless to do anything to save myself.

A few months ago, I went out to start my car and as I approached the passenger side (where I would lean in and turn the key then throw Jace's bag in the backseat), I saw something move inside my car. As I got closer and it came into view...it was a cat...IN MY CAR! I had no clue how it got in there or how long it had been in there. I had left the windows down earlier in the evening but had since left to pick my son and a neighbor kid up from practice. Had it been in the car then and stayed hidden? If it was trapped in there all night, had it peed and pooped in there? EWW! But given my fear of cats, I was afraid to simply open the door and let him out. If he felt cornered, he's probably pounce right?! So, I did what any normal person would do...I opened the door and ran screaming into my back yard and up onto the back porch. Immediately I thought that was stupid, now I am cornered if he didn't come out of the car, how was I going to get back around to the front of the house. I considered climbing the chainlink fence and coming around front but instead I crept down the stairs and peered into the carport. The car door was obviously still open - it's not like he was going to politely close it as he went about his way - but more importantly I had no idea where he had gone, if anywhere. I kicked the door shut and then walked around the vehicle looking in all the windows to see if he was still in there. Totally expecting it to jump up eye to eye with only the glass between us. As I rounded the drivers side, I saw that the back seat window was down about 4 or 5 inches. Then I realized the neighbor kid had left the window down on his side when he got out and I never realized it when we got home. So, that was how the cat got in but I still didn't know how long he had spent in there. Still didn't know if I would discover a nice pile of cat shit in a floorboard or the hatch. Once I decided it was gone, I walked back toward the house to wake up my little one and dress him for day care and too my horror realized the door had not shut all the way behind me when I had gone out originally to start the car. My heart sank thinking, "Oh my GOD - what if that cat ran into the house?!". I came in, turned on some lights and looked intently around a couple corners fearing I would come face to face with this savage animal. I decided I couldn't find it and thought if it's in here, the boys will discover it when they get up for school. Again, scarificing my children so that I didn't have to confront my fear.

Not long after that, I was making Halloween treats for work, my little boy was watching a Scooby Doo movie and all of sudden I heard a LOUD screeching - like a cornered animal. It sounded like a cat. I jumped up on a kitchen chair. How stupid! It wasn't a mouse, it was a cat - cats can jump so the heighth of that chair was not going to save me from anything. And there was my little boy in the living room alone where the animal could eat him. I called the older boys at their friends' up the street and told them they had to come home right now, that I thought there was a cat in the house and they needed to get it. After all, they are the men of the house now you know. In my panic and desperate cry for help, I didn't realize it was the kid whose house I had called that I was speaking too and not one of my sons. Yeah not embarrassing at all. Still they came anyway - all four of them came running. Searched the house and found nothing. I told them about the screech and we decided it must have been a hawk circling in the Scooby movie I heard but we replayed it a couple times and it never sounded the same as what I had heard. With them I'm sure thinking I was CRAAAZZY - we all went about what we were doing. Later when the boys were back home, Dallas was watching me make the treats, we were just talking and all of a sudden there was the screeching animal again. Brendon was in the basement and didn't hear it but Dallas did. I was NOT crazy afterall. I jumped up on the chair again. Dallas was cautiously looking around and Jace was jumping on the couch nearby when we heard it again. It was like it was coming from under the couch cushion. How could a cat have gotten trapped under the couch cushion? How could that even be possible? Irrational right?! I made him and Brendon remove the cushions and even though they were scared too that something would pounce out, I remained on top that kitchen chair a safe distance away. There was nothing there. Turns out my son had left AIM open and someone had changed their chime or whatever you call it to a screeching cat in honor of Halloween. So, everytime this person got on AIM, instead of hearing a door open, you would hear a screech. A sound effect of a cat had rendered me scared for my life shaking and shivering on top a chair.

I also have a fear of something happening to my children - especially the kidnapping or death of. I know that sounds so marose but in today's society bad things do happen to the most innocent of children and I just know I could not go on living if anything happened to any of my kids. It wouldn't be a heart attack this time that killed me. It would be heart ache! My heart would ache do badly that I would die from the pain. I know I am not the only parent to have those fears. Last fall we "lost" Jace at a local store. The store had to do the lock down (Code Adam I believe it's called) and we called 911. He could not be found anywhere! What had me scared the most as it was happening was that he was not responding at all. I just kept thinking if he had wandered off or was playing a game...he would respond...answer to his name...laugh, snicker or giggle, something - yet there was nothing. That, in and of itself, had me convinced someone had him. Someone had grabbed him, covered his mouth and had already gotten away with him. I even went out to the parking lot somehow thinking I was going to see a car speeding away and I could get it's description or license plate. Why did I think that? That happens in the movies! Why would I have wanted to see that? I would have collaspsed in anguish if I had but it atleast would be something to go on. I remember thinking I was never going to see him again. We finally found Jace hiding under the same rack we were standing at when we first noticed him missing. He kneeled there, keeping quietier than you ever thought a 2 year old could be, playing what was to him "Hide N Seek". I was never more relived in my life. I had a 911 operator on the phone when I found him and hung up on her so that I could reach for and pick up my child. I just held him. Hugged him tight and all he wanted to do was hide again. I was shaken for days! You know though, every single person I told the story too had had it happen to them with a child or grandchild.

I used to have a fear of being hit and killed by a drunk driver. I was certain that was how I was going to die. And it wasn't so much the main roads I was afraid of. It was the side roads, the neighborhood streets where someone who was impaired could run a stop sign and smash into me. I don't know why...maybe it's cause I don't get out much anymore - ha...but that fear has subsided a bit. It's more of an occassional nagging now.

So, what are your fears? I'd be really comforted to know I am not the only freak in the world.

"Nice one Mom!"

I was driving the boys home from the mall tonight and I belched one of those loud, rummble in the back of your throat, richochet off your teeth burps. Immediately Jace goes, "nice one Mom!" . He is such a giving soul. He is going to be a huge source of encouragement to all the other wee wittle wons when he starts pre-school next week.

Winter Wonderland???

Shoveling is a bitch! It took me an hour to shovel my one car driveway and clear away some of what I know will end up at the end of my driveway once the snow plow comes through. Al Gore can take his message of Global Warming and shove it where the sun don't shine. If the polar bears are drowning at the artic ice caps, then haul their butts to the midwest where we are enjoying 60 inches of snow this winter to date.

Here is the real amazing thing though while shoveling today...even with the sound of the the winds whirling, my heart pounding and my back breaking...I could still hear my kids screaming at each other from inside the house. I think I should build an igloo and hybernate the rest of the winter. Wake me up in six weeks and thank that damn groundhog for that one.

I'm the worst...

Brendon was violently ill this morning following his lethal combination of ice cream, nachos and popcorn at a basketball game last night. I totally forgot to call the school that he would be absent until 2.5 hours into the school day. This is a frequent behavior of mine. I always seem to forget to call. But in my defense, I don't call right away because there is no one there to answer anyway. By time there is, it's like "out of sight - out of mind" big time. So, as I finally made the call - referring outloud to myself as a bonehead - my boss goes, "I'll say it for you...you're worst mother in the world" . I said, "No. I'm just the worst phone call maker in the world!" . HAHA.

But making that late phone call is MUCH better than a couple times I've had to call the school and ask if my boys are even there. Yeah...mother of the year, right?! I've had to do that twice when I've forgotten to call home and wake them up for school. I'd call home when I finally realized and get no answer. No answer didn't really tell me much. Did they get up on their own and were gone? OR, were they still sleeping soundly in their beds with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads? So, the only alternative (other than driving home and actually checking) was to call the school. THAT is an embarassing call to make. I mean, shouldn't a parent know if their children are in school?!

Suddenly I am reminded that just this year I also called the school and said, "I just found out my kids missed the bus so I am going to get them but they'll be tardy". I based that call on the fact that I had called home, with no answer, for 45 minutes. I drove home to get them and they weren't there. They had gotten up on their own...still don't know why they didn't answer the phone. Buttheads!

Ok - maybe I am the worst mother in the world! No, no, no - it's the kids that make you look and sound crazy!

"...you're my Balentine"

So, I don't have much going on in the romantic arena to write about on Valentine's Day but I do have this...

...a couple weeks ago, we were eating dinner (actually at the kitchen table, all of us) and completely out of the blue Jace goes, "mommy, you're my Balentine" . The rest of us looked at each other and then laughed. Brendon goes, "ok, that was random" . HA. They had been talking about and coloring a lot of Valentine's pictures at day care.

How sweet is that though?! I guess that makes up for when he tells me to stop singing in the car..."that's too loud mommy!".

You've Come A Long Way Baby...

Besides that being an old campaign slogan for Virginia Slims cigarettes (my mother's unfortunate preferred brand for more than 30 years)...it also applied to me over the weekend. Although given the circumstances surrounding it, some people could say I am completely fucked in the head but it was none the less a personal victory for me.

I had spent some time talking to a good friend Friday night about how messed up and distraught I was for a long time following the break up with the father of my older children. How heartbreak and heartache are VERY real. How they are not just emotions felt in the heart and head but that there is often real physical pain when you loose someone you love. How I was in a real bad place and made a lot of real bad choices for a good 2 years. But how that the good news was that I had survived and like to think that I am strong enough now to admit that I made a lot of mistakes. To not give them merrit or justify them any longer, beyond the pure fact that I was messed up. And how I know I will never make those misakes again.

Before I go any further...it really was a surreal night because earlier, before this discussion, we had seen the girl he left me for at a local restaurant celebrating what we calculated to be her 30th birthday. She was 17 years old when he left me (and our kids) for her - turned 18 a month later. Why do I know that? It goes to how fucked up I was. I made it a point to find out everything I could and to insinuate myself into every aspect of their lives all in the name of "well, we have children together"...all because I was hurting so tremendously. I felt like I had been plucked out and she had simply stepped into my life. I was lost, felt alone and it HURT! A lot!

Anyway, onto the end of this last Friday evening, we started to head home when my friend checked in with her husband (who happens to be lifelong friends with my ex) and there was a cryptic message that I was supposed to call said ex at his favorite hang out. Apparently him and his latest girlfriend, who he happens to live with, had gotten into a (drunken) arguement and he was stranded with no place to go. Being the nice person I am (sucker), and the fact that I always seem to help him when he needs it (sucker), I said I could pick him up and he could crash in the basement with the boys. Our boys are teenagers now and we'd just explain to them what happened so that they weren't confused why he was coming home with me.

After getting to my place, we sat and laughed with the kids a little and then decided we all needed to get to sleep. As predicted, given the condition he was in, he kept coming up with excuses for needing to come into my room and talk to me.

I would be like, "you can stay here if you need to, there is plenty of room in the basement, we'll work something out, blah, blah, blah, go get some sleep".

And finally he came right out and asked, "so, there is no chance you want me to sleep with you?"

To which I frankly replied, "NO".

He was like, "you are the one person I can count on, blah, blah, blah, can you really look me in the eye and say you don't want me to sleep here?"

I said, "what I can tell you is that a part of me will always love you but I'm not the same girl I was 10 years ago and I will not be a substitute for _____________ for the night just because you found out some shit tonight that you didn't like!"

THAT people, was my personal victory! Victory back from the brink of despair, victory over the hold he used to have over me, victory to the woman I have become. I want a man in my life again someday but I swore a long time ago I would never let a man have that much control over me ever again.

I've made the cold, harsh realization that my soon to be ex-husband was not the "love of my life" and that contributed to the downfall of our marriage. So then I had to ask myself, if not him, then does that mean this other person was. And you know, I used to think yeah he probably was...until this weekend. After he scurried away with his tail between his legs, I found myself seriously doubting I could ever be in a place of wanting him in my bed again. Too much has happened, too many hurts, too many indiscretions, too many lies, too many times he shows me no respect whatsoever, too many times he made me feel stupid, too many times he made me feel unimportant, too many times he wasn't there for our sons. It's just too much!

So, you see, I have come a long way baby, because I now realize the victory was greater than I had even imagined. I've been able to say the words for a long time that I am over him but this weekend, I FELT it.

And I know in my heart, the "love of my life" (other than my boys) is still out there. I can see him in my mind, everything but his face. I even feel him sometimes in the sense that I believe in it so sometimes I can "feel" the moment happening when I find him or he finds me. The feeling is comfortable, the feeling is secure, the feeling is butterflies, the feeling is laughter, the feeling is...well, love.

Man, and it's not even Valentine's Day yet!

Goofy Goober

Check out Jace dancing to "Goofy Goober" from the SpongeBob movie. He always jams out when this part comes on so Brendon captured it on our digital camera. Only had room for 30 seconds but it's still funny!

Lord give me the strength...

...to open my deodorant!

I don't think I should skip anymore work-outs, today I didn't even have the strength to take the lid off my deodorant containter! Of course that was after working out today so I can totally blame that on those damn stretchy bands! I may have to down grade to the yellow easy ones!

And...my knees 'bout gave out when lowering myself to the toilet too after the workout. I was thinking, "man, that would be embarassing to have to have help getting off the stall floor."

That's IT - working out is officially hazardous to my health!

SHUT THE DOOR!!!

I screamed this to my 3 year old at least 5 times today while trying to take a shower. You know what a luxury it would be to have any of my bathroom time be private? I have a house full of boys no less and still they find the need to talk to me while I'm on the pot. As Stephanie Tanner would say, "HOW RUDE?!".

If I want to take a shower when Jace is around, I can't shut the door to where it latches so that if he DOES need something, he can come in. Of course this is enabling his seperation anxiety but I don't want to traumatize the poor kid that mommy has somehow disappeared. But leaving the door slightly ajar in case of emergency leads to Jace running in at full blast, flinging the door open, calling out "mommy" and then leaving again with the door still wide open. He does this several times through the course of even the quickest shower. Not usually a big deal 'cept when you have glass shower doors and the two teenagers are also around. Talk about trauma! Probably not condusive to the young psyche for a boy to see their mother in the shower! Oww - my eyes, my eyes!

The last time he did it, I yelled once again for him to SHUT THE DOOR when I hear my ex's voice just around the corner say, "hello". He had stopped by to borrow something but ... UMM HEL--LO, we aren't together anymore, you aren't allowed to peak at me in the shower!

What do I have to do, reserve my showers for every other weekend when all the boys are away and I have the house to myself?! I'm sure I won't stink too much by then!

Ok - so I am NOT perfect...

Ok, so I never claimed NOT to be an anal, obsessive compulsive, narcissistic control freak. For me, choosing to blog is all about me...what I want to say...and that I want people to find me both thought provoking and funny (narcissistic). And when I blog, sometimes I have to edit and repost the same post several times before all the typos are gone (anal). I even re-read my own blog posts over and over (obsessive compulsive) totally validating myself with each read (again, narcissistic). But really, if I don't, then who will?!

I posted earlier today a mildly amuzing tale of skipping a lunch time workout for ordering Chinese and how I am totally fine with that! In that post, I made an obsure reference to Hitler and in the process came across something about Hitler on the internet that I found very amuzing. I thought about including that tidbit in ( ) in that same post but didn't want to run on or get off track (anal). I then thought I would immeditately do a new post highlighting my new found fact but I didn't want to overshadow my previous post (narcissistic).

So, instead I decided to share this funny fact with a coworker and maybe tomorrow I would blog about it. So I sent this e-mail...

From: Lori
Sent: Friday, February 01, 2008 10:33 AM
To:
Subject: Hitler

So I was posting on my blog today and made an obscure reference to Hitler – “High Hitler” to be exact. I wanted to make sure I was spelling it right. You know, was it “High Hitler” or “Hi Hitler” (like greeting him hello) or “Hile Hitler” (which just sounds more German to me) and came across this interesting and I’m guessing little known fact about Hitler…

… “himself was an appalling hypochondriac who abused laxatives and suffered for much of his life from stomach cramps and embarrassing flatulence” …

I found that to be extremely odd and of course funny so I had to share!

(I think I should make this my next blog post..haha)

She responded...

From:
Sent: Friday, February 01, 2008 10:38 AM
To: Lori
Subject: RE: Hitler

That is too funny!!! I think it is Heil Hilter or something like that.

Crap! Foiled Again! I had apparently misspelled "Heil Hitler". WHO CARES, right? An anal, obsessive compulsive, narcissistic, control freak - that's who!!

So, then I responded...

From: Lori
Sent: Friday, February 01, 2008 10:45 AM
To:
Subject: RE: Hitler

Ok so I went with High Hitler because it actually came up in my internet search. The internet is never wrong! Rats!

I searched your version and sure enough it came up too. Now I am going to HAVE to post about it so I don’t look like an idiot!

Of course that is a relative term anyway…perhaps only an idiot would care if they misspelled something on a blog that gets fewer readers than the instructions on shampoo bottles telling you to endlessly LATHER, RINSE and REPEAT.

Phew, I'm exhausted. It hurts my brain too much when a over ANALyze things! I think I need to find a support group. But it would probably go something like this...

"HEL--LO people, it's my turn to talk here. It doesn't really matter what your names are, but mine is Lori and I am an anal, obsessive compulsive, narcissistic, control freak. Now, how can the rest of you freaks help me? ME...don't forget to mention ME in your repsonse. Oh, and directly after today's meeting, you all are invited over to either one of my blogs where you can learn more about ME. Comments longed for, just remember to praise ME! Thank you for listening to ME. Sorry, time is up."

I hope I am not THAT bad!

4 out of 5...

4 out of 5 ain't bad, right? I mean it is the standard for recommendations from doctors and dentists after all. So, I figure that if I only worked out 4 out of 5 days this week, I am still doing good!

A group of us do aerobics at lunch. We usually use one of two meeting rooms, just push back the tables (a mini workout right there), bring in a IT tech/geek squad video cart to project the dvd or tape on the wall (or screen if available) and talk a brisk 2-mile walk (in-place) with Leslie Sandstone. We have branched out occassionally to a George Foreman workout and a cardio one with "Galad" as the instructor. I have decided that Galad is German (although his accent is more Austrian like Arnold Swartzenager) because he has us doing High Hilter arm movements and rigorous marching.

So today started off with the two rooms we use being booked at 11:00 am to ?? so a workout time was up in the air, one girl was leaving early, and then another girl chimed in that she couldn't work out today. My take on the situation was this...

..."I wouldn’t be heartbroken if we didn’t exercise today. As you can see, I have not reached the uber gung ho fitness craze stage yet. If we find a room at a decent time then I’m in. Otherwise, again, won’t be heartbroken!...

Can you see that my willpower is still a work in progress? I say that buying a package of 6 choc chip cookies out of vendoland yesterday and only eating 3 of them is enough work on my willpower for the week.

Soon another couldn't workout today because they have to run home at lunch. And speaking of lunch...we decided to blow the entire day and order Chinese! Chicken Fried Rice, come home to momma!

So, 4 out of 5 of us vetoed any strenous activity today - other than the act of lifting fork to mouth! I likey!