Endless

I think the best word to describe having a stepson is "endless." There are endless amounts of laundry to do, sh*t to clean, lessons to teach, swear words to muffle, and fun. I know, "fun" threw you off, didn't it? Throws me off too. For the most part Z is well behaved. He's finally growing out of his destructo phase. I was telling my friends before he came that if he was a transformer, his name would be "Destructor." Thank god that's not the case. He's not as destructive as once believed.
We've had a good week so far - with a few minor blips. Did you know that when DyLon and I aren't looking its okay to take fireworks and set them off? Even though it's 2 weeks after the fourth of July? Yeah, I didn't know that either until Z told me. I'm calling bullsh*t on that one. Did you know that chores are for me and DyLon to do only? Yeah, I didn't know that one either. I'm calling bullsh*t on that one too. Oh, and did you know that small lies are okay as long as they don't manifest into big lies? Yeah...bullsh*t again.

Really though, other than uncleanliness, the occasional lie, and an odd obsession with fire, this week has been fun. Z and I set up my super old 16- bit Nintendo. We played Super Mario Bros 3 until we started calling each other "Mario" and "Luigi." It was at that point I decided we needed to stop being nerds and go outside for an hour. Then we went back in and started playing Nintendo again. And I have no problem telling you that I kicked a 13 year olds ass. He didn't have a chance in hell of beating me. I used to be the Nintendo princess. My brother, was of course, the Nintendo King. I could never obtain his level of Nintendo royalty.

Z and DyLon are camping this weekend. Guess what they left me? A whole pile of dishes in the sink. Isn't that nice of them? I should repay them somehow...but I'm not sure how. Perhaps I should just leave the dishes until they start growing penicillin. Meh, who am I kidding, I'll do them. And I'll probably like it too. Nobody does dishes quite like I do. I'll admit it, I'm one of those OCD types that insists on rinsing before putting them in the dishwasher. I'm usualy a big environmental Nazi - I insist everything be recycled and water saved. Except when it comes to the pre-rinse. F*ck the environment. I want clean dishes.

So they are camping and I'm stuck at home doing wedding crap. I call bullsh*t. But thank god Miriam came up and took me out to lunch. She saved me from wedding planning hell for 2 hours. Now I'm back at it...well, not right this second, but will be as soon as I hit "post."

Here are some quotes from the week to leave you with an idea of how this week went for me:

"How do I fold clothes?"

"I DID use shampoo, you just can't tell."

"I gotta take a dump."

"Do I need to put on clean underwear?"

"Papa's farts smell like something died."


Okay, back to wedding planning.

Peace.

New Topic - New Look and Feel

I'm breaking up with my running blog. I think it's time. It feels like we've grown apart. I don't know who it is anymore. Thanks Running Blog, you helped me get through some hard times...now pack your shit and get out of my house. Don't forget your toothbrush.


With that being said - I've picked a new topic/theme for my blog. I'm a misstepmom!!! Aka, Stepmom with lack of experience.

Some of you know, some of you don't, DyLon (my soon-to-be husband) has a thirteen year old son. I don't want his name plastered all over the net, so we'll call him "Z". Z is thirteen and I'm twenty nine (I can say that for only 2 more weeks). That makes me only 16 years older than Z. 16! Holy crap. When I was 16 I was doing bad things and hanging with bad people. I can't imagine having a kid then. Cool thing is, now I get a son without having been through labor, stretch marks, leaky boobs, and unbelievable amounts of poop. Bad news is, I have to figure out how to be a good role model. Shit. That means I have to behave myself. For those that know me, know how ridiculously hard that is for me. I can't have verbal diarrhea - which is what I do best.
Sidebar note: if there was an award in high school, like a "most likely to succeed" but instead "most likely to get slapped for her big mouth" I would have won. I would have given a glorious speech. "Thank you douche bags for giving me endless amounts of material. Without your constant influence, I would have nothing to talk about. By the way, did you know that all you popular chicks will get fat and get herpes? Good luck with Valtrex. It's all about suppression."

But I digress. Back onto my trials and tribulations of being a young stepmom. On July 11th, Z will come stay with us (he lives 90% of the time in Montana with his mom) through August 2nd. To help my nerves and to help me express myself, I will openly blog about my experience being a young stepmom.

This must be said and it is without hesitation that I write it: I love Z. He is a great kid with an imagination much like mine (oh god, someone give him an intervention now). I am honored to be DyLon's wife, and even more honored to be Z's stepmom. It isn't everyday someone trusts you to be a positive influence on a youngsters life...

Okay, so I have two weeks to prepare until said Z stays with us. I've actually got great hand eye coordination (I catch my Mom from falling in downtown Seattle all the time) so I should be able to stop milk spills. I've got great comeback skills so I should be able to sass him right back. I know how to cook so I'll be able to feed him properly. The thing that I lack is patience. DyLon is going to have to give me a crash lesson in patience. Let's hope I have the patience to pay attention. Har har har.

So stay tuned America, Brooke's about to become a young stepmom. Prepare yourself for crazy quotes like last year's "my testicle popped out" not to outshine "oh poopsquah!"

Here we go...

Bummer

Well, as it turns out, I've been instructed to "cool it" on the training. I've recently discovered some health issues and am no longer able to compete in the half marathon. I can't believe I have come this far and am stopped at the gate.
To be honest, before I found out I had health issues, I emailed Reid and Heather telling them that I wouldn't be able to run. Not because of health issues but because the timing was off. As most of you know, I moved in May and am getting married in August. My days and nights are filled to the brim with wedding plans. Thank god I don't have to plan a wedding ever again. It's awful.

Anywho, I quit, then I was told to quit. It's pretty ironic. All I was looking for was an excuse to quit. Now that I have it, I don't want it. I want to run and I want to finish.

I suppose I should be proud of myself for going this far. I ran over 10 miles! That's got to account for something, right?

I do have future plans to run a 7.5 mile run with Heather next year. She said people dress up in costumes. She shouldn't have told me that. I have a pregnant nun costume. I'm going to buy her a priest costume and we'll run like the irreverent sinners that we are...okay, maybe that's just me...

So until my next run, I'm going to have to figure out something to blog about...

Any suggestions? Anything other than wedding BS.

*UPDATE* to Boobs

I have received a number of suggestions on how to run with boobs. Thank you to all contributors. My favorite was from my father who said "just run with a wheelbarrow." I love my Dad.