30-Day Challenged

Okay, so last month I BOLDLY issued myself a 30-Day Challenge. That would be to work out, every day, for thirty days.

I want you to know that I DID work out, every day. For 12 days. And then I had to go out of town for a few days. And then I spilled gasoline on my gym shoes. And then I went on vacation. And I think you know where I'm going with this.

Techically, the challenge was not a total failure. My goal was to get back in the habit of dragging my jiggles to the gym every morning before work. And, in fact, I HAVE gone to the gym nearly every work day for the past month. It's those non-work days that tripped me up, and by God, there were a lot more of those than usual.

But I'm a woman of my word. I told you the price of failure would be to post a photo of myself in my new bathing suit. And so, without further adieu, here it is:

WHAT? I never said HOW MUCH of it I had to show, did I?

Oh, shut up.

You Know Your Kid is Five When...

1. He starts locking the stall in public bathrooms and insists you wait outside.
2. You spend the entire car ride home from grandma's explaining how, and why, airbags work. IN DETAIL (you will have to make some parts up).
3. He calls you out for eating his candy. And tells dad.
4. He starts sentences with the phrase, "When I was a baby..."
5. He watches the "Sex and the City" movie with you, and asks incredibly astute questions ("But WHY doesn't that man want to marry her?)

Mother of Invention

As I contemplate the approach of yet another Mother's Day, I can't help but think...Jack sure is LUCKY to have me as a mom.

I mean, mom's are always saying how they'd "do anything" for their kids. But me? I've put my money where my mouth is.

Well, technically there was no money involved. Which, when you think about it, actually makes what I've done for my child all the more heroic.

You see, Jack is about to turn five (FIVE! My BABY is turning FIVE!), and as such he is coming of that age when a boy realizes he needs his own space..."a room of one's own," if you will. And, being a boy, that realization can ONLY manifest as a tree-top fort filled with bugs, slugs and pirate bloodlust.

From the start, I was amenable to the idea. A backyard fort where he'll want to spend every waking hour? Out of the house? Out of my hair? In lieu of watching SpongeBob Squarepants at ear-splitting volume until our brains bleed? What's not to like?

Well, it turns out there was ONE thing not to like. The price tag. I checked out a few catalogs, and most of these "play systems" cost more than I spent on my first car. And my second car. COMBINED.

But you know what? My kid wanted one. NEEDED one. And I was going to get it for him.

I started out looking to my old standby, Craig's List, the rationale being that people are always putting these behemoths in their backyards, only to find that their kids outgrow them milliseconds later and permanently retreat to their bedrooms to commence listening to heavy metal. Surely, these desperate parents would want to sell me their slightly used "play haven" on the cheap so they could put up that gazebo they always dreamed of.

As it turns out, not many of them did. And the few deals I DID find were a little too "Kountry Kabin" for my refined architectural tastes (plus one "dad" tried to lure me to a hotel for a massage and complimentary strangulation...SO glad the feds finally caught that guy!)

I was not going to be so easily dissuaded. I was just going to have to get a little more inventive.

Ever heard that saying, "look no further than your own backyard?" Well, my backyard was empty, but I observed that my neighbor's backyard was NOT. In fact, he had a MOST EXCELLENT play system. And I noticed that his going-on-tween daughter wasn't touching it with a ten-foot pole.

If 15+ years of shoe sale shopping have taught me anything, it's how to spot an opportunity.

Master negotiator that I am...I crossed the street and made my pitch. And by the end of that conversation, he'd agreed to GIVE it to me. FOR FREE. That is, IF I could find a way to dismantle the beast and get it the hell out of his yard.

Of COURSE I could find a way..."Ben? Honey? Could you come here a minute???"

Three weeks of hauling, sanding, staining, staking and masterful engineering later...Jack has his fort.

And I have the satisfaction of knowing that I am, as suspected, the best damn mom on the block.

Not to mention the added benefit of a blissfully quiet house! Hear that silence? Ahhhhh....

Happy Mother's day, indeed.