Gretta hiding in the boat.
The G's drinking their chockey mokey together. Please note Gracie's tiny pajamas. 
Emma vogueing (voguing?) for the camera. 
This is pretty much what our trips to Jill's look like. Gathered around the table, laughing and eating. 
Ahhh.....We headed to Vegas last week to visit my sister and take on Lake Mead. Those of you that follow me on Facebook (which should be all of you, because if you think this blog is hilarious, you'll love my over the top, way too personal status updates), have seen my fancy schmancy Hipstamatic For iPhone pics from our trip.
It was good times.
We ate lots, played lots, skied lots, swam lots, applied sunscreen lots, drank cokes lots, and drove lots. How can that not be fun? Really, it was a blast.
Then Boomer died. He was my sisters dog. That pretty much put a huge damper on the whole week. He got hit by a car. That's not technically what killed him. Sean was around, so he did his dogly duty and rose to the occasion. It has sort of become Sean's job in this family. I'm pretty sure every family has one. No? Oh.
Well, despite that, we had a good time. Except Boomer. Poor little dude.
Today's FFF is more for me than you. Sorry.
When do you become a "runner" as opposed to someone who runs? I've never really been either of these until recently. And I've mostly counted myself as someone who runs. You know how it is, I go out, run until I can't run no more, then go home, binge eat on Pringles and Coke, and wonder why I can't beat my best time of a 30 minute mile.
Until today. Today was different.
So far my best distance has been 4.6 miles. Not bad, I know. I almost stroked out the last 100 yards, but I didn't, and I recovered. Today I topped that with 5.18 miles. Pretty stinking good, if I do say so myself. And specific. 5.18. Not 5.2. Not 5.1. 5.18.
Somehow I must have stepped in concrete at the last turn, because my feet literally felt like they had cement blocks on them. I've never felt that before. I almost blew chunks on some dudes lawn, but I held it in, and continued "running", which was really more like a drunken stumble, for the last .18.
That was when I knew I had become a runner.
Happy Friday!
I totally got spoiled this year for Mother's Day. I usually do, but especially this year.
First, I splurged and bought myself some new running shorts. I've been running in my tennis shorts with a bike jersey and golf socks and walking shoes. I had to upgrade at least one of these items. Sean said I could do it, so I counted my new shorts as my gift. And I was absolutely thrilled!
Then I got my hair done. Cut, colored, and highlighted. And by someone else! It's been years since I've had anyone else color my hair. It looks great! So I counted that, too, and figured I was good to go.
But then he said I should get a new outfit for our trip to Lake Mead on Monday. I couldn't let him down, so I had to get new capris, a shirt, and a cute new swimsuit cover up. I was definitely good to go, and I felt so spoiled! Life is good.
Then yesterday, after my second run of the day (I had to try out my new shorts after they arrived!), Sean took me to get my iPod screen cover fixed. Little did I know that he had something more in mind. It was also time to upgrade my phone, so I scored a new iPhone! We also got Sean one, because the business can pay for them, and it was only $10 more for him.
So now I totally feel spoiled. I mean, I should, because we all know I'm totally the mother of the year and all, but how will I ever top this for Father's Day? I will, because I already know what Sean is getting and he. will. love. it!
Hooray for a reason to eat Mexican food. I freaking love Mexican food. I totally should have been a Mexican. Except that then I would get deported when I visit Arizona, and my family would have to make do without me.
That wouldn't be much fun. For them.
For me? Totally fun. I could live it up pretty good there in Mexico on a beach with a margarita and a hammock.
But for tonight we just celebrated by eating Pioneer Woman's enchiladas. Muy delicioso.
With Spanish like that, how could I not love Mexico?
