I've Never Done Anything Like This Before

I just voted.

Anyone want to venture a guess as to which one is my favorite?

I, Moron.

I shaved my legs today for the first time in a week. So, woo-freaking-hoo, you say. Well, actually it is kind of a big deal. I'll get to that in a bit.

Last weekend the Mr. and Al and I embarked on a weekend getaway. We traveled three hours away to a State Park for an Adventure Race that the Mr. had volunteered to help with. In theory, the weekend sounded like a dream--fresh air, a change of scenery, plenty of nature for Al to explore and enjoy, and (*cue angels singing here*) a hotel reservation.

Well, that was theory. Here's the reality: It was shitty hell. The race was an 8-hour event, so I ended up changing dirty diapers in the back of the SUV in temperatures ranging from 40s in the morning to 80s in the afternoon with gusty winds. I spent the day taking care of a toddler all alone (yeah, I know--boo-effing-hoo, but y'all, it was in the wilderness!) because the Mr. was out in the brush somewhere making sure that racers didn't scoot past any checkpoints without doing whatever it was they were supposed to be doing.

Just to be fair, though, I must admit that the scenery was breathtaking, and the park personnel and my fellow race-watchers were superb company. But anyway, back to the bitching.

I had bathed Al and myself in SPF 50 before we went out that morning. Even so, I still managed to score a sexy farmer's tan and Al has some sweet sandal tan lines on his feet. Unfortunately, it never occurred to me that my legs would need as much protection as my arms and face and shoulders and ears, because dude, my legs never get sun. Evidently, the sun shines at a different angle in Mineral Wells, Texas:

That happened almost a week ago. This photo is from an hour ago. Believe it or not, it doesn't hurt, hence the shaving. I'm pretty sure the wind had to have played a part, because this is no normal sunburn.

The upside? I can totally rock the miniskirt-and-leggings trend now, and I don't even have to put the leggings on.

Thanks, Excuses, and a Confession

The beautiful and brilliant and very, very generous Lizzy has named me as one of her Thinking Blog Award Recipients. Whoa. How should I say this?

How 'bout, "I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!"

But I am greedy, so I'll accept this award, my first ever in the realm of the Blog World. And I'll say Thank You. I'm also going to cop out and say that all five of the writers that I would have nominated for the same have already been nominated. So, in an effort to avoid overwhelming them with fanfare, I'll just leave it at that.

If I've ever made you think, even if for a nanosecond, and even if that thought was "Sign me up for a tubal ligation right now!" then my job here is done.

Lately, though, I imagine that upon visiting this site, your thoughts have turned to checking the obituaries or perhaps some Fallen Blogger MIA list. And really, there's no excuse, except well, Life has kind of been happening. There's nothing exceptionally exciting going on, just copious amounts of Stuff.

I did, however, take a small but significant step in overcoming a fear yesterday. This one is straight from the Jezer's Premature Zoloft Titration Files. Also, the Why You Won't See Me at BlogHer This Year Files:

Yesterday, the Mr. had a very good idea: He and Al would drive over to a nearby town to peruse baseball card shops. They would invite Uncle and Cousin and make it a boys' afternoon outing. Awesome.

Right?

Well.

Here's a little confession: I have never been more than a few miles away from Al at a time. Ever. Yes, we spend the entire workday separated, but when need be, it takes me only 10 minutes to reach him. For the Mr. and the boy to travel over 30 miles away--in the car!-- without me!--caused a bout of anxiety. The Mr. suggested I go with them, but the reality was that I needed a few hours to myself to do some housework and homework. Plus, I needed to face the irrational, yet entirely conceivable notion that Something would happen if I weren't Right There.

Nothing happened. Except that they had a great time.

I took a nap, watched The Girls Next Door, and did some ironing.

Baby steps, y'all. Baby steps.

Fake it 'til you make it.

Here's that philosophy in expressed in the form of t-shirts:

Really, he is very, very happy.
Just ignore the tantrums and whining and the
crankypants that he insists on wearing on a regular basis.

Hers, silk screened print on soft yummy cotton from the nice folks over at DGM.

His, photoshopped by the mama.