I met Chris the summer we graduated from college. I am certain he does not remember it, but It was August 1996 and we were at a house party. I recall pointing to this guy who was completely and totally obnoxious and asking my friend Lisa, “who *IS* that dude?” She answered me with, “oh, that’s Tait. You’ve never met him?” So this was the infamous Tait I had heard of over the years. The one whom my roommates invited to our parties, but never came because he had a girlfriend (or something like that). And probably because we were younger folk.

Over the next year, I saw him more frequently, as I started hanging out with his crowd more often. Yet I still viewed him as this insanely obnoxious dude. As the months wore on, I began to enjoy his company more and more. I realized what a nice guy he was and that he brought out the fun, adventurous side in me.

One weekend in spring, a friend and I went to Madison for the weekend to visit Chris. On the drive home, he lamented to me that Chris would be excellent boyfriend material and I wholeheartedly agreed, secretly wishing he was my boyfriend material.


I think back to those days…how fun and carefree dating was. But also how volatile our relationship was. Oh my, how we’ve grown up and how we’ve grown. I was 25 when we bought a house and moved in together. I remember being hit with the thought of, “Oh crap. Now what happens when I’m mad? I have no where to go!”

I think back to when all 3 kids were young and we were struggling to find our ground and lost sight of us (I shared about that here). And I look at us now. It still isn’t easy. We still have our moments. And we still have to work hard. But fifteen years? That’s something. And its something worth putting work into.
Cheers to fifteen, babe. Here’s to fifty more.

 photo newblogsignature_zps266b4b3e.jpg

Friday Finds


Happy FriYay friends! This girl is looking forward to the weekend. I am here today, wrapping up the week with some interesting links I’ve found floating around the internets recently.

Ah. The world of Instagram and the over-stylized shot. Do you ever find yourself rolling on the floor laughing, thinking that there’s no way that the person actually happened to sit down with those specific items? These pictures show what really happens in the background of stylized Instagram shots

Is raising kids without religion healthier for them? There are always people that will disagree, but research has shown that kids raised sans religion display less susceptibility to racism and peer pressure, and are “less vengeful, less nationalistic, less militaristic, less authoritarian, and more tolerant, on average, than religious adults.” And the list of benefits doesn’t stop there. What are your thoughts after reading the article?

You say you’re pro-life, but really…are you truly pro-life? This author wrote a thought provoking piece on the subject. I never really thought about it from this standpoint, but she hits the nail on the head.

Last week, Beautycounter brought attention to the fact that current regulations in the cosmetics industry are antiquated and that we need to take action to change this.

This resonated with me because so many of us take great measures to be careful with what we put into our bodies, but we do not pay attention to what we put on our bodies. But we should. Because our skin is our largest organ. Educate yourself and spread the word about the Personal Care Products Safety Act. Because its time, people. #themoreyouknow

 photo newblogsignature_zps266b4b3e.jpg

That time I met Public Enemy at my local bar


Whatever your opinion of Public Enemy, you cannot deny that they’ve had a huge impact on many people of our (my) generation. They were one of the first rap groups who used their lyrics to expose discrimination and to express their (at that time) radical political views, while encouraging social activism. To reach a whole generation of folks? This was and is huge.
So when I had the opportunity to attend a private 5 concert lineup this weekend hosted by a close friend, and the headliner was Public Enemy, I was stoked, to put it mildly. Plus Sponge and Hot Action Cop were there and we saw them last year and they put on a phenomenal show.

Will I win the Best Parent Award for allowing my 11 year old to sit front and center…and go onstage…with Public Enemy? Probably not. Will he remember this night forever? Likely so.

I mean, he got to meet both Flavor Flav and Chuck D! He tells me he also met DJ Lord, but I don’t have photographic evidence…

I mean, how often do you find your kid on Flavor Flav’s twitter?


I was thoroughly geeked out

My kid has awesome friends. We have awesome friends. Such generous, amazing friends that are so incredibly giving. I loathe using the word blessed, but Sunday I woke up tired as hell, feeling blessed.

(for some amazing press on this event, there were two articles published here and here)

 photo newblogsignature_zps266b4b3e.jpg

Refusing to wear a bra


Remember reading Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. In the book, Margaret prays to God for things she desperately wants.  Things like, “I just told my mother I want a bra. Please help me grow God. You know where.”   Or the chant that Nancy (the one who actually lied about having her period) has her minions repeat while stretching their chests, “We must, we must, we must increase our bust!” Who does that? Who WANTS boobs to grow or to rush their period or lies about having that death sentence? Its funny to think some girls really get excited about those things (and some do. My girl has a friend who was stoked to get her first bra and can’t wait to get her period. crazy girl). I’ll admit it. I am not a fan of boobs. Or bras. But since I have them and I nursed 3 children with them, I wear them out of necessity. Or, maybe its out of vanity? So now here I am…with a daughter on the cusp of 12…who, *gasp*, needs a bra. And she is flat out refusing to wear one. I’ve been trying to figure out why. I mean, I know its not like Margaret + her friends day + age, but its not like its an uncommon thing. Several of her best girlfriends wear bras, some for over a year now. Punky_Brewster_Bra

While I didn’t anticipate her being giddy to get little buds, I had  imagined that buying her first bra(s) would be an exciting event…you know, we’d go to the mall, get pedicures, get starbucks…that kind of thing. But nope. Nothing like that. She wanted nothing to do with bra shopping, and when the bras came home, she shoved them to the waaaaaaay back of her underwear drawer. This girl…she’s so different than her brothers. They will talk to us about annnnnything and everything. But she’s quiet. Getting her to try and talk to me about why she’s being so resistant isn’t working. I suspect she is apprehensive about her changing body and the fact that she’s growing up (and living in a house with omggrossbrothers), but again, she won’t talk about it. Crap. If this is what bras are like, what’s the whole period thing going to be like? Shoot me now. Or maybe she just wants to join that whole #freethenipple campaign. Haha. Kidding. Totally kidding.

 photo newblogsignature_zps266b4b3e.jpg

Oh, my aching knees (and other tales from the weekend)


This past weekend, my husband, myself, and two friends teamed up and had a blast completing our first Tough Mudder. Not familiar with the Mudder? Its an endurance event that includes a 11+ mile run and military style obstacle courses. Its not a timed race and its all about the teamwork. It tests not just your physical strength, but also your mental strength (facing fears, keepin’ on, and all that good stuff). Two years ago, there was no way in hell I could have done this. But almost two years ago, before turning 40, I made a change. And I am now hella strong and am not afraid to try anything. But even being strong, I was not strong enough to complete some of the obstacles if it were not for the help of my teammates and other Mudders.

First obstacle of the morning was the Kiss of Mud 2.0. It was clearly called this for a reason.
kiss of mud first

All those bear crawls that I’ve done at the gym that I am now a pro at? They finally came in handy.

After that, there were a few obstacles before we hit the Mud Mile, which was a series of slick muddy hills and valleys of muddy water.
mud mile

From here on out, we got to run with lots of rocks in our socks and water squishing out of our shoes with every step. But we took the Tough Mudder creed, which included NO WHINING.

Eventually, after a series of seriously steep hills we had to run up, we came to the Arctic Enema.
arctic enema
You’re forced to slide down under this fencing and into a pool of ice. Then you had to hurdle a wooden bar in the water and get through another ice pool before hauling yourself the hell out. If your limbs still worked. The girls went down one and the boys another, all at once. Guess who won the race? That’s right…the ladies.

There was lots more running and even more hills and several obstacles like the Warrior Carry (I carried her halfway and then we switched)
warrior carry
the liberator, which you had to use 2 pegs to scale yourself to the top
the liberator
beached whale, which you had to figure out how the hell to get up on (that shit was greased, man)
beached whale
and many others,(let’s not talk about Devil’s Beard and how I got stuck in it) before we made it to Balls Out.
balls to the wall
This shit was hard. The goal was to make it across the wall using the ropes. I fell flat on my back. #winning

Here’s where I admit that I probably should have trained a bit more with regards to running. Early on, my IT band, which is always tight, started acting up after I tweaked something on an obstacle. Next thing I knew, my knees had a good throbbing pain going on. And by mile 8, I seriously thought my knees were going to either spontaneously combust or lock up or give out. Especially when going downhill. But I trucked on. And it paid off because my two favorite obstacles were towards the end….

Funky Monkey 2.0 was a set of monkey bars where the first set was ascending monkey bars, then in the middle, you grabbed onto a trapeze bar and swung yourself to a descending pipe, where you finished with a hand over hand shimmy to the end. If you failed (like my dear husband did), you dropped into a pit of pink water that was 5.5ft deep.

Even more fun than the monkey bars was King of the Swingers. Why wasn’t a photog there? Dang. You had to climb up to a high-dive height platform and then leap off the ledge and attempt to grab a swing of sorts and then swing/propel yourself forward to attempt to ring a bell. Then you drop into a 12ft deep pit of (very cold) water. So exhilarating and fun! (video here)

The final obstacle was called Shock Therapy. My friend and I decided to skip it, while the men decided it had to be done (I don’t know about you, but I am not a huge fan of being shocked)
shock therapy
That’s my husband. He went down. And went down again. And again. And again. And then cramped up just feet from the finish. I think I made the right decision.

We finished. This gal was sore and tired, but she did it. I ran almost 12 freaking miles AND I did some pretty tough obstacles.
mudder finish

Would I do it again? I think so. But first I think I’ll do a Spartan event in summer 2016.

 photo newblogsignature_zps266b4b3e.jpg

Theme by Blogmilk   Coded by Brandi Bernoskie