Throwing stones.... and White Winterland

Hello my wonderful Blog Friends!  Yes, I have no excuse to be ignoring all of you except the fact that I've been drinking, stuffing my face, and shopping for myself this entire week hanging with friends and family and going to Christmas recitals.  Fun Stuff!  Annika:

 The girls were fabulous!  They had school on Wednesday, Cole had his Christmas party that same day and Pete and I found ourselves with a FREE day, just the two of us!  What to do?  Stay in bed, have wild sex, eat popcorn and drink soda while watching inappropriate television shows? (this is exactly what Pete proposed minus the popcorn, soda and TV, BTW)  So with a click of a button, we found out that Red Lodge was going to get about 8 inches of snow.  They didn't....they got about 23!!  It was a bit cold, but the skiing was just like floating on a cloud...no shit.  You sit back and enjoy the best ride in the world on snow...

Then we stopped in Joliet and had a red beer and a late lunch at the 212 Bar and Grill.  FABULOUS!  Seriously, if you and your family are looking for some great food, super service, friendly atmosphere, all at a reasonable price this place is a must!  Right at the edge of Joliet. 

I was also at the ER again today, but more to come on that.  I promise I am not a deductible abuser, truly.  But I'll preface this and say I was in the most pain ever today.  EVER!

Who is having Christmas at their house?  Who is hoping their hubby just hasn't wrapped your presents yet and your kids are lying when they say that dad hasn't taken them shopping yet?

Too old for diapers, too young for depends....

I want to start with the caveat, I love my kids regardless of the physical and mental (my family and I want to sincerely thank the creators of Zoloft) havoc that they wreaked upon me.  However, besides the extra 10 or uh, 20, few pounds I have left over, there have been "other" not so fun effects. *gross bodily function warning coming up*  After I drank 3 pounds of Tom and Jerry batter with a gallon of liquor Saturday night, it was time to hit the pavement for 3 miler before the snow came.  I had some company:

It wasn't a solid 3 miles, we had a lot of start and stops, but I'll take that kind of run any day.  What I DON'T want is this cold.  You've heard of "incontinence", right?  I don't neccessarily think I've crossed that line (yet), but let's face it...I've had three kids.  Out of my vagina.  And it's not made out of elastic.  So at about 2.5 miles, I felt a slight, but substantial sneeze coming on.  I should have stopped.  I know that now.  Or I should have done 1,243 kegels a day like my OB Doc told me to do.  I obviously thought that with age and weight gain, my vagina muscles magically got stronger.  So yeah, this wasn't just a little dribble.  I peed my pants.  Dammit.  And I was .5 mile from my house.  With two of my kids.  And the dog.  Shit f*ck.  (This is an actual term when things are really bad.) 

It wasn't pleasant, but we made it home and into the wash.  Both me and my underwear.  YOU might have thrown them away, but if I threw away all of the underwear that me and my kids peed in, well, Fruit of the Loom stock would be well into the thousands of dollars per share.  All in all, the run was good, I was able to "naturally" keep my upper thighs warm and my kids were none the wiser.  (I want grandkids some day, so there is no way I'm telling Makenna that the chances of her peeing her pants in her mid thirties are MUCH greater than when you are 3.) 

More Christmas concerts today and tomorrow and some shopping...and a hot toddy or two (or six or ten). 

Holiday Hookers

I'm telling you right now, that some people absolutely amaze me.  And today, it wasn't in a going-to-get-this-future-nobel peace prize-recipient's signature kind of way.  It was more on the lines of, "maybe Darwin really did have it right" kind of way.  My friend actually said, "God, Bobbi, quit looking at her like that."  It was the "That round thing that sits 3 feet above your ass is your head. Inside of that is your brain.  When you use it, extraordinary things can happen.  Like speech.  And thought." look.  I save it for very special occassions of incredible stupidity.

NOT, that I'm a big proponent of geniuses, or that everyone needs to be one.  Because let's face it, most geniuses are not fun.  However, am I thankful for my car, the light bulb, and a good Cabernet?  You bet your ass I am.  It's just the really dumb people you run into during this event called life that make me wonder if man kind is going to make it into the next decade, let alone the next century.  How many 20 year olds do you know that can navigate using a compass and a map?  Acutally do math (add, subtract, multipy, divide) in their head?  Use a telephone device to actually CALL someone to talk?  I know that there are some, but in the scheme of life and survival, if things go to hell in a hand basket, your "mad" texting skilz won't keep you warm or snag something for dinner.

Stupidity is a lack of intelligence, understanding, reason, wit, or sense. (duhhh)

Anyhoo, I am not going to call out my friends name, because not everyone likes to have their private lives spilled onto someone else's blog to be picked apart, made fun of, and used to steal their identity their lives "public".  No sweat.  R~ I did not post your picture nor did I mention your name!  Score...Me!  (the pic was soooo good though!)

Onward and upwards:  My goal was to get in another 15 miles this week.  I was able to get in 2 miles on Monday, 2.5 Wednesday, and 2.5 today.  That means, a cool 8 miles tomorrow and I'll have this week wrapped up like pig in a blanket (which is what I look like after the 3,521 plates of cookies we got at work.  Doesn't anyone want to send some Holiday Dexatrim or Phen Phen??)  I'll let you all know how that goes.  (I am sure, down the shitter).  But you never know.  Your 18 year old just might make that "real" phone call to you, any day now. 

And last but not least.  From an inspirational blog:

Stop being scared to make a mistake. – Doing something and getting it wrong is at least ten times more productive than doing nothing.  Every success has a trail of failures behind it, and every failure is leading towards success.  You end up regretting the things you did NOT do far more than the things you did.

That sounds so much simpler in writing than it is to LIVE THIS WAY.  But I am making a commitment to do just this.  Unless the mistake is not making it to the toilet.  And shitting your pants.  Pretty sure "nothing" is better than that mistake.

Self Doubt in a Fast World

Sometimes it's hard to face your weakness head on (after ignoring it for years and faking what you think others expect of you), let alone share it with the world (Damn you Blogspot~ Damn you to hell!), but once you allow doubt to couple with a weakness, well, you have to take some self inventory and be God Damned honest with yourself.  (my mom is going to make me wash my mouth out with soap when she reads this...shit.  hell.  penis.  I'm getting Dawn in my stocking for sure)

                                                      

Doesn't everyone want to be "Kick Ass"?  Like, wow, she doesn't care that she shows up to a meeting smelling like coal dust and having her hair in the perfect formation of a hard hat.  She must be "Kick Ass".  Trying to run a half marathon and then a full at her weight and physical level?  She must be "Kick'in Stupid".  She has a full time job, 3 kids, a fabulous husband, her own business, and can still fit in some blogging time, she must be "Kick Ass".  (however, "Kick'in Stupid" has fit into this situation, many times....too many times.)

So why do we think we have to be bullet proof to be "successful"?  And why is the meaning of successful a dynamic term within our lives and our peer groups? 

I have so much doubt on my success as a wife, mother, employee, entrepenuer....friend, sister, volunteer....some times.  Most of the time I think I am on top of my game and not looking back.

How do you deal with self doubt? 

Why do women, in paticular, think they have to be at 1000% at everything they do?

What kind of soap do you wash your kid's mouths out with?

Is it Age or Attitude?

I had to laugh out loud, because one of my good friends posted her story on FB about dropping off her kids in her PJ's and chatt'in up some other mom, like nothin's going on.  IT.WAS.HILARIOUS.  Thanks for the good laugh babe!

I mean, I JUST did this last week.  At least a version of it.   I'm not as classy/put together as my friend is, so I have NO DOUBT she pulled off her look without a blink of an eye.  I, however, did not.  Not in the least.  I wouldn't have been caught DEAD without 14 pounds of makeup in college (sans Freshman year....since I can't even remember that year, it doesn't count), my Calvin Clein jeans, and my Vanilla Fields perfume.  So is it age, or do I not give a shit anymore?  I don't know, but since she was brave enough to share, here's goes BIBS.

Had the day off, and knew I had nothing going on except watching 8 hours of Lifetime movies and eating Christmas cookies, after my nap some house work and a grocery store trip.  I might even change my underwear if I'm feeling sassy.  A real shower was NOT on the agenda....that day or the next (or the next).  My hygiene takes a backseat on the weekends.  So if you show up to my house unannounced, be ready for some pony tails and hairy arm pits.  (no, I don't use hair ties for my arm pits until the long Christmas break. Sheesh.) 

So when I get a phone call from the school, I was a bit surprised.  Annika forgot her Thursday folder and needed me to bring it in.  I threw the Cole-ster in the car, grabbed a sweater, and slid on my flip flops.  At the last minute, I decide to put my sun glasses on so that no one would notice the old mascara and drooping eye liner I left on from the night before.  (Cole loves me for who I am.  Thank God.  Even though I am sure he'll be writing about this in his journal for his psychiatrist some day.)  Brilliant!! My mind kept wandering back to Eric and Marcy and if they will ever find their baby that disappeared from the hospital that fateful afternoon the washer and if I rotated the laundry yet.

So I practically drive up onto the sidewalk and run inside the door to the grade school office.  I was number 4,319 in line.  F*ck.  Is it national "visit the school secretary and chat her ass off" day?  Did I miss the memo?  Is it in Annika's folder that she forgot at home?  So I am waiting with a very antsy and curious 2 year old at my side.  I notice that everyone else in line has on snow boots, tennis shoes, or weather-appropriate professional foot gear.  I try to curl up my toes, therefore making my sockless, shoeless apparel look much less noticeable.  Guessing at all of the pointing and stares, I am failing miserable at this.  Either that, or they feel sorry for the little boy at my side, still in his monkey PJ's with his snow boots on.  (I was *this* close to letting him go without any of that, but was not willing to admit that to the crowd that now thinks I am drunk or stoned for leaving the house in this condition)

FINALLY, it's my turn.  I kind of blurb out something about Annika, folder....blah blah blah.  All of the sudden, here comes the 1st grade class, around the corner from gym, and I practically shove the folder in Annika's face and try to turn tail.  Of course she wants to "show me off" to her class mates (first graders are so much less judgmental than adults.  One little girl actually wished her mom would let her where flip flops in the snow too. Uh, yeah...Annika's mom is sooo cool. ::blush::  )  I am now, 40 shades of hot from embarrassment, so I take off my sweatshirt and make small talk with the teacher and secretary.  Not sure how long we talked, but you know the feeling when someone just isn't really "listening" to you?  Both their eyes were kind of shifting to the corner of the room, the floor (maybe they are noticing my non-existent pedicure and are vowing to go naked toed through out the winter also?) to the kids...so I get the hint, politely wish them a Merry Christmas and get back to the car.  As I don on my sweatshirt, I notice that my saggy, yet pointy boobs, are not only very apparent through my bra less attire, but I also have a HUGE booger on the right side of my nose.  Shit.  I almost felt like beating my head against the steering wheel.  Oh My F*cking God.  I am sure there will be some good times in the teachers lounge today.  I keep checking the mail and the phone messages for Child Services, or at least someone offering to come in and help with my parenting/home life techniques.

What's your most embarrassing public moment? 

Do you really shower every day?  Am I THAT gross?

And THIS is why we get married, right?  You wouldn't find my shit up there for NOTHIN! 

God he's sexy on a ladder though! 

Damn, it's been a few days since I've been here and that last post was really boring, dull, unfunny, and sucky a little off of the Bushman style.  Who would let a little heart problem get into the way? 

Had a SUPER Rodan + Fields event with corporate Thursday night.  God I love this company.  Have I ever mentioned that?  The people who are leading this company are knocking it out of the ball park and I WANT to be there.  Screw this $1500/month here and $1800/month there shit.  I want to be making $10,000 PER MONTH by the end of next year.  (Me and Tricia are going to rock this world and make some really ugly people have some super great skin!)  Love you girl!!

I have been contemplating what to get Pete for Christmas.  I don't know about you, but I STRUGGLE with his gifts every year.  Apparantly, an inversion board isn't high on the wish list.  THIS year I got him a gun safe.  (total score for me!  Great price at TSC!) What I didn't expect was for me to help. 

507 pounds.  Up the f*cking stairs.  Don't ask how we did it.  I'll just say that it involved some 2 X 4's, PVC pipe, two shots of vodka, and divorce papers.  And not particularly in that order.  But the bitch is in the room and loaded.  And the gun safe is in it's place also.  Give me a break, it's been a long day. 

Any guesses on how many pounds of hair, ribbon, tinsel and string I found in my vaccum?  God, that is so gross.  However, my house cleaner got a full time job, so now it's up to me to bitch and moan and kick shit in the corner until Pete just does it get a hold of the house hold chores once again.  Please don't look into the toilet before you pee.  I am only one woman.  With three bathrooms.  And a bad attitude. 

I was able to log 5 miles in this weekend! Minor breathing problems, but took it really slow.  My goal is to get another 15 in for the week.  I know I.CAN.DO.THIS.  Boulder half is the end of April.  I'm going to kick some major booty down there.  My super friend Amy lives in Denver and I want to win her approval and friendship so she doesn't think I'm weird make a showing and not be a big talker.

So once again, I ask myself the question from my mentor, Kris Vandersloot:  "Are You All In?" ......I'm getting there Kris, I'm getting there.   I have a half marathon to train for, some kids to yell at/raise, three bathrooms to clean (pfffft.....sure, Bob, sure) and a Rodan + Fields business to rock!   I.CAN.WILL.DO.THIS. 

At least I have good skin....

Uh Yeah...this is me, in the ER, wondering if those nurses are all taking turns putting their hands in the freezer, getting ready for the next patient.  I was *slightly* bored.

I was making jokes with anyone who would listen at the time, because, well, that's what I do in stressful situations...or awkward situations...or funny situations....or, well, yeah.  From the movie 'Waiting'  :  "I realized that your personality was just one short punctuated joke after another."  ::blush::

Eh...yeah, I laugh through life.  So when one of the nurses asked if I needed something, I said, "How about a new heart?"  and she said, "You may have a heart problem, but you really do have great skin." So she bought the Amp It Up Special! 

I may have a heart to contend with, but dammit, at least I have good skin!!!  You buy the Amp It Up Special from me this month, I will send you a free lip plumper!! 

https://bbushman.myrandf.com/    Amp It Up Special



  

          

Hard On...the Heart.

I am sure all ten of you have been sitting on the edge of your seats wondering about my mysterious breathing/heart/just-plain-out-shape status.  Well wonder no more, my faithful readers!  After $9,000 worth of blood work and heart monitoring, we still have no answers.  I am not completely defending the health care world, but I think they are too the point that with all of the liability that they take on, they overreact and over diagnose while under dressing their patients.  Seriously...

My morning started out as usual....blue birds brought me my robe as I gently awoke my sleeping children from a fruitful night of slumber.   Don't be jealous. You know it's true.  As I was trying to put a clean diaper on Cole while brushing my teeth, Makenna informs me that she can't find her house key (I have no doubt this will be found in the pile of stolen goods located in Miss Annika's room...which holds our family's most valuable possesions from my diamond earrings to Cole's favorite McDonalds toy).  After Annika found two, sort-of matching shoes, Makenna brushed her hair (Yes honey, just because you can't see the back of your head, doesn't mean you don't have to brush back there) and I have now gone hoarse yelling this long, this early in the morning, kids are trudging out of the door, regardless of the lack of personal hygiene or matching attire.

I decide to forgo the coffee this morning, because this is just a quick appointment and I'll grab a cup when I get to work.  ::foreshadowing warning::  Here's a tip people....IF, for some unbelievably, mentally f*cked up reason, you WANT to land in the ER at any time, all you have to do is make a mention of "heart" coupled with "breathing" and/or "pain" and you'll find your ass smack dab in the land of backless robes and needle wielding nurses. 

So, as I am mentally preparing to act like I am totally OK with people pushing my boobs around to hear my heart and glue cord tassles to my chest (give it up for the girls in Vegas...cause those boobie tassle things not only have to stay on, but eventually come off.  I would be surprised if any of them even have nipples left.) I get handed the dreaded robe.  I am patting myself on the back because I shaved my legs this morning (maybe not well, but well enough that you can't braid them anymore) and I realize I am wearing a thong.  A THONG.  You don't see a lot of chicks (or dudes) walking around the ER sporting their polk-a-dotted thong under their backless robe.  I almost ripped up the sheets and made my own cave-man like skirt.  Damn. 

Now that I have scarred the memories of the X-ray techs and re-assured the rest of the ER that, yes, I am wearing panties, it's time for the 15 pints of blood to be taken into 300 little tiny tubes, each holding about 2 drops of blood each.  My nurse assures me that the test will only take a few hours to complete.  Meanwhile, I get to sit here and watch my IV drip into my arm, increasing my fluid intake so that I can walk down the long hallway and around the corner to the bathroom while pushing my monitor, 4000 tassle cords, IV and holding together my backless robe so my ass isn't hanging out, literally. 

I also found it interesting to listen to the nurses/techs/random folks make small talk at the nurses station...these people have a lot of time considering this is an ER, but since I was doing nothing but laying around picking my nose, no big deal.  None of them passed physics, obviously, because sound does travel through curtains, surprisingly clear as a bell. 

Nurse 1: "Can you believe Karen called in sick again?  Does she EVER work?"
Nurse 2: "Room 8 just asked me to turn her IV down...this is her second bag.  Wow, she must really like it here."
Nurse 3: "Did you see that Room 4 is wearing only a thong under her robe?"  ::blush::

Ok, not really, but some of the conversations were pretty good, or I was just really bored, or they slipped something funky in my drip.

So after all this trauma, a good 30 minute nap and a meaningful conversation with the admissions gal (who really doesn't get a lot of respect....) there are no hard conclusions, but it's pointing towards a heart beating problem.  The doc told me what it could possibly be, and it was something like this:  atrial-prexometionsh-dremaieamnon     Seriously.  I just stared at him and pretended HE was the one sitting in a robe without a back in a thong.  It made me feel a lot better.

I follow up with my doc later this week on the blood work, heart monitor, and underwear protocol.  I ran 2 miles today at the gym (God, I hate the treadmill more than a backless robe!) and felt fabulous.  Bring it on!

Have you ever had an ER visit that lasted forever? 

What about thongs...yes or no??

PS:   Do they teach you to completely drain all life giving and warm blood from your hands in Nursing School?   :-/

Compromises...

First off, I have another cold coming on.  Sore throat and wheezing all last night.  Ugggh.  How the hell do all of you super athletes, or just those of you who run, (looking at you Robin and Ceci!!) on a regular basis make it through the snot, cough, and flu season with Kids?  Bath in Vodka every night?  Not touch your kids for 6 months?  Move to Tahiti??? 

Anyway, I ditched the run this morning and did some yoga instead.  Some Down Dog Split and Plank work made my Bailey's and Coffee taste extra good.  I am actually looking forward to my appointment in the morning to see what the hell is going on with my shitty ass lungs.  It's getting hard to fake breath in front my Pete so he'll let me run.  By the way, this does not have any bearing on me being able to do yard work, laundry, and well, sex.  ::eye roll:: men.  Thank goodness they can change oil and fix dryers.

I'll leave you with some Christmas pictures from the Bushman household~  Yes, I have two trees, and don't tell Pete, but I am scouting out my third.  I need to find a way to put it up, decorate it, and have him not notice until next year. Tips? 

My camera phone sucks ass.  I know.

I have really cute little ginger bread houses under that tree, coupled with Makenna's dirty sweater and some dog bones.

So how many trees do you put up every year?   Do you drink whiskey in your coffee?? On week days?  At work??

A Long Saturday...that's not yet over.

This was me after my 2.2 mile mark.  And I truly didn't think I could feel any worse.  Wow.  I'll try to photo-shop some mascara and lipstick for you all next time.  I made it this far before I had to use my inhaler, thanks to my weird-lung-breathing-maybe-heart-related-thingy.  More on that Monday after my doctors's appointment. 

I actually felt really good and focused on my breathing the whole time.  After a quick couple of breaths from this little beauty: 

I was able to turn around and finish up for almost 4.5 miles.  Not quite the 5.0 I wanted, but I felt strong up until 4 miles, and I think cutting it a little short was the right thing to do. 

I also realized that I REALLY need to update my mp3 player song lists, and is it me, or does Carrie Underwood and Pink have some major man hating issues.  Holy shit.  Taking them on a date must be close to rubbing your open wound in salt and lime juice.  (I have a margarita craving all of the sudden...)

On another note, I whipped up some home made Bailey's Irish Cream.  YUM!  It is so freak'in good.  It's a good damn thing I only make it once a year, or I would be the size of Ireland.  So, Makenna and I coupled that with some butterscotch haystacks and chocolate peanut butter balls.  Now that I think about it, I should have ran that extra half mile.  Day-um.

I'll leave you with this little gem.  The Cole-ster.  In all of his glorious cheeseballness.  Can I say balls in the same sentence as my sons name?  I feel weird about it.   Hmmmm.....

PS  Yes, he needs a haircut.  And yes, my house is always a disaster.  ::eye roll::

 

Scared....(not scarred!)

Ok, now that it's over with, I can share with all of you that I was SCARED.  Like in, "what the hell could happen?" kind of scared.  Like, "if I pass out on the side of the road, am I going to get stolen, violated, spit on?"  "Would someone try to steal my size 10, 3 year old, New Balances?"

I went on my first 3 mile run since the bad breathing incident.  It went FAB!  I felt good and strong.  I felt some coughing from my hideous cold, coming on, but just kept going and I ran through it.  Ahhh....I love the way a good run makes my body and mind feel.  I am going to do my netty pot tonight and go to the gym tomorrow and my plan is a 5 miler on Saturday.  I am jacked! 

On another matter..it is Christmas time!  So if you start following me, and comment on my status, I will do a drawing and send you a fabulous gift from my Rodan+Fields anti-age arsenal!!  You will LOVE it. 

*Shameless Plug*  I am making a 4 figure monthly salary and working on a 5 figure just from my business!!  Join me!  I will train you, teach you, spoon feed you.....I won't make you hear my poop stories anymore!  :-)  https://bbushman.myrandf.biz/   EMAIL ME NOW!  bbushman45@gmail.com

So too get into my drawing:  All my followers are already in.   New question:  What is your biggest fear during Christmas??   You won't get what you want?  You won't get the right things that your family wants?  You will take a huge dump and find out seconds later that the water is turned off???