Friday, July 29, 2016

1 calories burned...

For the last three Fridays in a row, I have been getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to hit the one-hour training session at Orange Theory. We're the deranged 5:00 am group. So whilst purging my inbox this week, I came across my "performance assessments" for the last three workouts. The one from last Friday? And I quote "1 calories burned".

They didn't even have the decency to make that bitch singular.

1 calories burned.

That's a tic tac.

One. Fucking. Tic. Tac.

All this for an hour of outrageous athleticism. (insert cough) Now for someone who eats an entire container of tic tacs in under 7 minutes - because I crunch them like the candy that they are - this preliminary cost-benefit analysis makes me question many things. Like if maybe I died during my work-out and found Jesus.

Don't even ask me what a splat point this point, I don't care.

Saturday, June 11, 2016


When your friend shows up at the door on a Saturday morning to pick up your 8-year old son, and he runs ahead to answer the door and you hear him whispering in hushed tones, issuing the following warning to said friend: "You may not recognize my mom cause you're used to seeing her at work when she usually brushes her hair, and wears a bra and stuff, so..."

If your self-esteem needs a boost, hang out with a kid for the day. Just not mine...

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Mother's Day...

My kids gave me my Mother's Day gift early...they couldn't wait to share their fun facts about me. I have to say, it was the best gift ever! I laughed until I cried. Then I just cried.

 I know my mom loves me because I'm awesome. That response, my friends, pretty much summarizes my lovely first born. And I certainly appreciate the fact that my burps make him laugh. They are really that good. Oh, and he informed me that he modified the response for the sentence "The one thing I hear my mom say a lot is I love you, and fuck." AFTER daycare, because he didn't want me to get in trouble for that second part. Thanks kiddo. You ARE awesome.

My little girl...this kid warms the coldest corners of my heart.
Truly, may I be judged for her. (and only her)

My last born loves me because I do crazy stuff, and he loves cleaning with me...
DAFUQ, James? Oh, and when I was laughing so hard I could hardly spit out:
"Walmart, Jimmy?! WALMART? I fucking HATE WALMART!!!"
I knowed that would make you laugh, Mommy. And I like your boobs. But we can't say boobs at daycare. What a kid. His response for the win: "The one thing I hear my mom say a lot is...go downstairs." Listen quietly. That is the sound of all third born children sobbing for attention. No worries though, he knows he's my favourite of all favourites...and makes me whisper that in his ear every night before he falls asleep.

Side note: I now know that it's likely not entirely their fault that we can never capture a proper family photo.

We all suck. Except for Jimmy. He be all like LeBron James.

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