Three stories and a joke.

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STORY ONE
THE DESERT PIECES
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Some days are bad because of laundry and dishes. Other days are bad because the budget is tight. Some days are endless, with responsibilities and worries and sorrows that perpetually sneak up on you. The worst day was the day Daddy Greg went away. And he took the dog, too. I have learned that my emotional range is limitless.

After two months in the desert Daddy Greg came back. He found a few pieces of himself there and brought them home to share. Pieces that were stolen from him by a drunk driver two years ago; pieces that went missing in physical therapy; pieces that evaporated and disappeared in the heat of frustration. While he was away in the desert Mama J found a few pieces of her own. Pieces of sadness, pieces of anger; a lot of fragments of memories and dreams.

When Daddy Greg came home he put his pieces on a table and said 'look at what I found.' Then Mama J put her pieces on the table and said, 'hey, look, some of these fit together.' As we arranged, and re-arranged the pieces we started to see a picture of a really happy, very hopeful, young, naive couple that were frozen in time two years ago. A couple that still love one another desperately and might just be ready to start over again, where they left off, before all these pieces were blown away in the wind.

Some of the pieces are still missing, but we have vowed to keep looking for them. Some of the pieces are sitting under the proverbial subconscious rug and will probably never see the light of day again. That is fine by me. I have endured, and I am humbled by my fortune. My story was broken into a thousand pieces but the picture is still fresh in my mind. We can build the puzzle back again; we just have to use our imaginations. And a hell of a lot of kleenex.


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STORY TWO
THE BRIBE
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My little man is turning into a young man. Some moms cry and mourn the loss of their little one. I am loving every minute of it.

He has man stink. He has a man's appetite. He farts and burps and wants to play video games All Day Long. All of this, and the lack of Santa Claus in our lives finally led me to the bribe: prove to me you are a young man; responsible like a big man, but still sweet and dear to your old mom like a little boy. In return, you will get a GameBoy before you go to Switzerland. This is the best bribe I have ever made. I get to (ab)use it for over three months.

Yesterday we climbed Dog Mountain. As Littleman says, 'it's named because you pant like a dog when you get to the top.' It only took 4 minutes to hear the panting and complaining start from Littlemans mouth. After about a half hour of wenching and whining I started talking to him about attitude and 'mind over matter.' I finally pulled out the bribe. He almost ran to the top of the mountain.

We had our picnic and our rest at the top of the ridge. The wind paused for this moment and the sun was splendid as it kissed our faces. We declared a word of the day: Endurance. We all tested our limits on that hike, and came down the mountain humbly proud of our day.


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STORY THREE
TWENTY POUND MONKEY
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My family started a biggest losers competition and asked that we all join in. Some are pregnant, gaining points for gaining weight. Some have Butler Butts that they aim to melt away. I am trying to lose a twenty pound monkey that is tied around my neck. Thank goodness he is not on my back.

This monkey is responsible for all the bad habits that prevent me from living the healthiest life possible. It feeds me junk food when I have a craving. It pours me a glass of beer when I have had a rough day. It tells me 'stay in bed today' when I am finding it hard to motivate. It sneaks chocolate ice cream into my dinner bowl and hides my running shoes. My neck is sore and the monkey stinks. I have devised a plan.

I started by thinking about joining the ARMY. I didn't join, but instead started doing push-ups and sit-ups with LittleMan every school day morning, in efforts to reach the top 10 percentile of physical fitness, marked so by US soldiers. Next I found my running shoes and took myself on a run. Shin splints hit about mile .25 and I realized I had a collapsed lung injury that had gone undiagnosed. Thirdly I joined the local Rec Center and taught myself to swim again. Got a case of athlete's foot from the showers and my hair turned green. Lastly, I decided to omit sugar from my diet. I got one day into this and started googling insane asylums.

The monkey was winning at this point but am determined to keep trying. I changed my tactics to a tortoise and hare motif. I still do sit-ups and push-ups every morning with LittleMan, while silently giving thanks that I am not in cammo's. I go running and play soccer and swim when I can, making sure that I do at least 4 days of exercise a week. This is all part of step one.

Step two is food. First the master cleanse, which starts on April Fools Day. I plan to ease back into eating with a 75% raw food diet. The 25% that I just cannot live without includes such luxuries as my morning tea, eggs, fish and tofu. I do not know how I will live without bread, beer and dairy, but I have to try.

Step three includes snogging and laughing. Between these two I think I can beat the last drops of winter blues out of my head. I plan to take Greg on dates, hang around Orion and friends, watch a lot of Jon Stewart and Ben Stiller, and buy curtains for the bedroom.

I may not post my weekly losses on the loser board, but I am working hard to lose the weight of this monkey. When I meet my family in July I want to be able to say that I not only met, but exceeded my goals. Not pounds but habits. Who knows. I may even lose some of this Butler Butt along the way.


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THE JOKE(s)
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What is the scariest kind of tree? BAM-BOO!
or how about this one?
What do you call a fish with no eye? FSH.
or this one?
Why was the broom late? HE OVER SWEPT.