Thug Life

Princesses & Black Knights

This weekend we went to the pinkest, most glittery, princess-iest party in the history of the universe. I know I occasionally moan about the lack of glitter nail polish & tulle in my life, but honestly, I'm usually really happy to have a boy. This party, though, did leave me a little weepy and yearny for a girl. I mean really. Look:

All lined up before the princess parade.


Ahem.

Seriously

It's all I do anymore.

Tri

Dudes, my husband completed a triathlon. He was all, "hey, maybe I could do a triathlon." And then HE FUCKING DID. My husband=rules.

Would you like to hear about our trip to La Quinta, where the triathlon was held? I thought so.

This is what I did for three hours on the drive. I took a crochet class with Cindy and I have lost my ever-lovin' mind. It is all I do, all I think about. I crochet until I lose feeling in my hand. And then I crochet more because only a pussy stops for pain and I'm no pussy.

We're fairly regimented about tv and sweets with Dash. Friday is dessert night, ONLY if he's at least tasted what we served for dinner every night during the week; and we don't turn on the tv until the sun is down in the evenings. But when we go on vacation (or stay at a "ho-towel" as Dash calls it) all bets are off. He can gorge on tv and donuts until 4 am if he wants. No rules, bitches.

We brought the bike into the room. Because we is klassy.

We went to dinner at the Hog's Breath Inn the night before the race. Hey, Josh, how many triathlons have you completed in your life so far?

How many by tomorrow night?


So then we got there & Josh was all, "How many tickets to the gun show?"


Right before the race started we just kinda hung out by the lake and marveled at the variety of people who would be participating. I saw several women who weighed at least 200 lbs, a 72-year-old man and a guy with only one leg. For a split second I thought about training with Josh and trying it myself next year. Then I thought, "No. I like wine. And sitting still."


The swim was first. Poor husband's rented wetsuit burst a zipper right before the race, so he had to swim with ice-cold water flowing into his suit the whole time. That tiny speck is him.


After the swim came the bike portion. Again, he is the speck (I am no sports photographer, but in my defense, I was working one-handed as Dash refused to let me put him down for even a second. He is no triathlete, I'll tell you that much.)


And, the run! By this point it was pouring down rain and if I were in the race I would have packed up and walked my ass back to the car. But not this guy. No rest, yo!


Poor hubs. He seriously was about to pass out but indulged me one victory photo.


Also, did not puke on the child, which was commendable considering what he'd just been through.

Nice work, Papa. You make us proud! Now take a load off for a few weeks and stop making us all feel bad about our own lazy asses.

Aged

Dear Zaz,

I love you more than Champagne picnics and little kids in sailor suits. You're funnier than the Lone Raspberry & most pirate jokes. You are the love of my life and I am thankful for you every day, but especially today--on the anniversary of the day you were born and started your journey toward me & Dash. I'm glad you escaped all of those dinosaurs that must've been snapping at your heels. (Because you're so old. And were born in prehistoric times. Many millions of years ago. Get it? You=old.)

We love you like the sun.

Happy birthday, old man.

Plenty

From "Enough" by Alice McDermott

Full Moon

Did you guys see the amazing full moon last night?





We did