From now until then.

You think your life sucks?  Try plyometrics at 5:30am. 

Today, I kicked it up a notch.  From now until May 31, I’m doing my 55-75 minutes of P90X in the morning and 25-45 minutes of cardio at night. 

Why yes, I am badass, thank you for noticing.

Last summer, I was relatively comfortable in a bikini.  Not entirely comfortable, but I can’t imagine I ever will be entirely comfortable in a bikini.  But, comfortable enough that I wore one at every reasonable opportunity.  And, some unreasonable ones.

This summer, I’m going to have 6 weeks of nothing but non-kid freedom.  I can say with certainty that a gross majority of that time will be spent on the lake.  In which case, I’m going to need to be semi-comfortable in a bikini.

I have 2 months to get there.  Anyone up for the challenge?  100 minutes of exercise per day.

If I can do it (with 2 kids, 2 dogs, a full-time job, and a non-profit to run), you can do it.  1, 2, 3, GO!

P90X Progress

I’m in my recovery week, finishing up Phase I of P90X.  I’m not kidding, y’all, this is a tough program.  It got easier during week 3, but those first two weeks were killing me.

I’ve dropped 4% body fat, an inch off my hips, and a half inch off my chest.  I’ve actually gained a pound, but I’m not too worried about it because my clothes are already fitting better.

Strangely, the part I’m having the most difficulty with is doing the yoga.  I hang in there through the hour of push ups and pull ups every week, but ask me to relax for 90 minutes, and I just can’t do it.  I have TOO MANY OTHER THINGS TO DO!!!

I’m also doing a pretty crappy job of sticking to the diet.  Sugar has been a severe weakness over the past couple of weeks (Easter did NOT help). 

I’m looking forward to kicking some ass in Phase II . . . another inch off my hips would be suh-weet!

I miss thinking.

Probably the thing I miss most about my single, responsibility free, entrepreneurial life is the time to just sit and think.  Think about life, think about how I fit in, think about how things happen and why, and the power of positive energy, and the way the universe is always working in an amazingly choreographed fashion, and how to negotiate this life in a manner that brings me and the people around me the most joy.

A couple of months ago, the thing I missed most was time spent with friends.  But, much like I suspected would happen, the quality of each of my friendship has been put under a microscope, and those that were solid to begin with have remained strong. . . and those that couldn’t sustain the dramatic changes in my life, haven’t.  I was afraid of this for a long time, afraid of friendships fading, afraid of losing touch.  But, it’s actually been really good.  By weeding out some of the less sincere friendships, I’m no longer struggling quite as much with finding the time to devote to the people who really matter.  I should have trusted that things would work out the way they should.  They always do.

Last spring, I spent an exceptional amount of time reading, and having amazing philosophical discussions about life and love and fate, and sitting on my patio listening to the wind or the rain and just soaking in all of the love that I had for every minute of my life at that time.  I spent hours thinking about how much things were going to change and how much I was going to miss the amazing life I had carved out for myself.  I spent even more hours thinking about how crazy it was going to be to tackle instant motherhood of two children who came with some pretty serious issues, and how much strength I was going to have to find to get through each and every day, and how blessed I was to feel so strongly about my ability to give them a good life.

I was lucky because I had the time to wrap my head around the whole thing.  I had time to sit and think, endlessly, about the sacrifices I was making and the impact that would have on my life and who I am.  I had time to come to terms with it, and I had time to cram in the major crazy, irresponsible, carefree things that I wanted to do before I had two little people who would make me feel really guilty about being so spontaneous and selfish.

I didn’t really realize how much I thoroughly enjoyed the thinking, or how much I’d miss it.  These days, any attempt at deep thought is typically interupted with a whiney “Sissy pushed me!” or “Reece farted!”. . . which makes it difficult to seriously contemplate anything at all, really. 

As insignificant as it may seem in the grand scheme of things, I really miss thinking.  And, though I recognize that my life simply is no longer able to accomodate the 4 hour coffee meetings to discuss the significance of minor coincidences or the 6 hour telephone conversations that lasted until most people were waking up for work, I really miss the people that spurred that much creative thought in me and made me question everything I’ve ever believed.

I’m hoping to find some time to get some of that back.  So hang in there. . .

Weekend in review

The kids and I spent Friday at the beach and it was possibly the. most. fantastic. time. ever.  We spent 7 hours in the car to spend 3 hours on the beach and I didn’t strangle any of them.  I can hear your applause, Internet, and I thank you.

The crappiest part of the day was when my camera battery bit it.  Before I took any pictures.  Thank goodness for my trusty Samsung camera phone!

The objective of the day was to get some sun because I’m vain.

I thought, as I wrapped the towel around me to keep from freezing to death, that I wasn’t getting any sun and the trip had been an awfully silly way to spend the day.  But, then we stopped to pee at a Taco Bell and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized that I fried the shit out of my back.  SCORE!

I should have been completely worthless by the end of this trip, but I somehow managed to drag myself out downtown after I dropped the kids off. 

Here’s the thing about meeting friends out at midnight when you’re completely sober and they’ve been drinking for 4 hours:  they’re jerks. 

I don’t know how I wound up out until 5am when the people I went to see bailed sometime around 1am, but I did.  And, I laughed so hard for 2 solid hours that I thought my face was going to stick that way. 

I should have stayed in Saturday night to catch up on the sleep I missed Friday night.

Oh, but I didn’t.  And, my entire body hates me for it today. 

In what has become  pretty common practice, I met friends at The Parish.  White Ghost Shivers played, and we were so gleefully joined by my favorite dance partner ever in the history of the world.  We spun and dipped and twirled and tore that dance floor up.  It was so much fun, I could barely breathe. 

My feet are swollen and it feels like I have a broken toe and I can’t turn my head more than 15 degrees in either direction and my shoulders are sore and I have bruises everywhere.

But, I couldn’t have asked for a better time or for better company.  My favorites ever are the people who have all of the dirt on me and don’t think a thing of it. . .and will dance all night long.

I love my life.   (And White Ghost Shivers.  And The Parish.)

SXSW 2008

So, regretfully, in the three years I’ve been in Austin for SXSW, I’ve completely failed to participate in any SXSW activity.  None.  At all.  For no apparent reason other than I’m still in winter mode in March because Indiana conditioned me to hibernate from early October to late May (something I hope to eventually shake).

This year, I still didn’t see any shows, but I did make it out for a 45 minute jaunt down 6th after a YE event during which SXSW festivities were occurring all around me.  It wasn’t a big deal.  Just a quick stop into my new favorite bar restaraunt (Roux) to see my new favorite guys.

In what is an extremely rare circumstance, Tracy joined me for a drink, and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly why things wound up so insanely ridiculous.  In the company of anyone else, I would not have seen a chicken and Leslie in one night on 6th. 

So, we get to Roux, right?  And, we’re accompanied by another good friend, who just happens to be a black man who is always in a suit, no matter what.  A luau?  Suit.  Out for drinks?  Suit.  Skydiving?  Suit. 

Not really, I’m just kidding about the skydiving. 

Anyway, we head in and the hostess asks the usual “how many” blah blah.  I tell her how many and then ask if either of my favorite guys are in.  She first repeats their names in question form as if to indicate she doesn’t know anyone by those names (just FYI, y’all, they would be the owner & events coordinator, soooo. . .) while forcibly refraining from rolling her eyes, but not forcibly enough that I didn’t notice.  I repeat myself and she sighs heavily and says, “I’m not sure, I’ll have to check”. 

So, I roll my eyes and tell her we’ll just sit at the bar, thanks.  And, to the bar we go.  We order drinks and I text my guys to ask if they’re around.  As I’m receiving the first response, hostess girl comes over and says, “I’m sorry, he has stepped out, but he should be back to close if you want to hang out”. . . at which time I open my phone and read the text from him in which he confirms that he is, indeed, in the building bartending.

Huh.

Fast forward 15 minutes.  We’re having such a fantastic good time that I don’t notice that Suits has walked off.  I look around and see him by the entrance looking out.  Just as I look over, he and Hostess are looking at me and he does the fingers to the eyes, fingers to me “I’ve got my eyes on you” thing.  And, I nod and go back about my good times.

5 minutes later, one of my favorite guys comes strolling in and greets me with a big hug and kiss. 

5 minutes later than that, my other favorite guy comes down to see us.

We scoot out of there 15 minutes after that, and only then did I realize how freaking hilarious the whole scenario was.

Apparently, during his absence, Suits wandered over to the door just to see what was going on outside and Hostess says, “Thanks for stopping by, have a good night!”. . . and HE SAYS, “Oh, I’m not leaving” and then proceeds to explain to her that he’s actually our security for the evening and he’s just surveying the outlying area before we leave.  That’s when I conveniently happen to look over at him, which I guess could have been perceived as concern for where my security had gone.

SHE BELIEVED HIM.

I’m guessing that there’s no way that would have worked if it weren’t SXSW and as such, I’m claiming to have participated in SXSW this year.  This story easily goes down as one of the funniest damned things I have ever accidentally partaken in. 

Come ON.

People.

I love country music.  Like. . . freakishly much for how uncool it was to love country music when I was in high school. 

But, I recognize that there are limits.  And, seriously, people.  Whoever thought it was a good idea to turn an Aerosmith song country needs to be shot. 

*shakes head*

One more reason Indiana sucks

I wouldn’t ordinarily post unpleasant stories without warning, but this is kinda important.  If you’re easily grossed out, just don’t read this or scroll down.  Seriously.

Last week, my brother-in-law was attacked by several men at a pub on the north edge of Indianapolis.  By all accounts, the attack was unprovoked, so it’s difficult to comprehend the end result. . . it’s also really hard to try to understand how this shit just happens in the real world at all, let alone to someone you know and love.

Justin was just a few blocks from home, having drinks with a friend.  When his friend went to the restroom, he was hit from behind and knocked out with the first blow.  A witness said he hit his head on a table as he fell.  The men continued beating him even though he was out cold. 

For some reason, no one stepped in to stop the attack.  The bar staff didn’t intervene until Justin’s friend ran to get the license plate of the car the assholes were fleeing in.  At that time, he was stopped at the door and prevented from getting any identifying information.

Justin was out for several minutes before he awoke in pretty miserable condition.  He was bleeding and disoriented, and had no idea what happened.

The next day, he was examined by a dentist and doctor and the extent of his injuries was shocking.  Justin had 5 broken bones in his face.  He had a collapsed sinus cavity that needed rebuilt to prevent his eye from falling into his head.  He had several chipped teeth.

The pattern of injuries is consistent with having been kicked in the face. 

Justin spent most of a day in surgery last week.  As you can see in the photo, the incision ran from one ear, over the top of his head, and to the other temple.  The surgeon had to essentially peel his face off to correct the damage done.  Not cool.

So, try understanding that this happened to begin with, for no apparent reason.  Then, try to figure out how people stood by and let it happen.  Then, further try to understand how the bar staff didn’t do anything. 

It’s terrifying to think that you could just be happily minding your own business, enjoying time with friends, and get your head bashed in without warning.  It’s infuriating to think that it could happen and people could watch it happen and not do a thing. 

It’s further pretty fucking irritating to think that you might never know who did it or why.

There are undoubtedly people who know who did this.  People saw it happen, saw the guys who did it, saw the car they drove off in.  Something.  Anything.  Any of that information would be helpful.

If you think you might have some information about this, please contact the Indianapolis police department.  If you need more information (where, when, etc.), leave a comment and use your real email address or email me at stephanie_combs@hotmail.com. 

This is the kind of thing that makes me want to move back home and kick some ass. 

We’re thinking about you every day, Justin and Linds.  Hang in there.

Swimmin’ Fishy!

This really has disintegrated into some crappy blog about my kids.  For that, I apologize.  I actually am still doing all sorts of fun, stupid things. . . I just don’t have time to write about it in any amusing fashion.

So, I took the kids to the pool Saturday.  Here’s video to prove it.  If you haven’t heard my voice before, I apologize for the obnoxiousness of it.

What you’re not seeing is the part where a bee attacked me and made me jump around, screaming and flailing. . . and throw the camera across the pool onto the hard concrete that scratched it’s beautiful shiney gloss.  I guess the saving grace is that it didn’t land in the pool.  But still.  The kids really enjoyed that part.  I could tell by all of the laughing.

I. LOVE. TEXAS.

It’s going to be 90+ degrees tomorrow.

*spins in circles, giggling*

I chose to take tomorrow off to enjoy Spring Break.

*spins in circles, giggling*

I’m still taking the kids to daycare even though I’m off work.

*spins in circles, giggling*

I will spend the vast majority of my day tomorrow poolside, soaking in the sun, thanking the good Lord for giving me the courage and good sense to move to Texas from Indiana.

I love it here.  I keep saying that, but I really, really do.  And, the only thing that would make it better is a free babysitter who likes to babysit until 4am.

Oh, and winning the lottery.

But, other than those two things, life is so awesome I can barely stand it.

Well, I could probably do without temper tantrums and bad toilet aim.  But, except for those things, everything is perfect.

*spins in circles, giggling*

It really only takes one 90 degree day off work to make me happy enough to spin in circles and giggle.  I love Texas.

He is not a nugget.

Can I just tell you how much I love Roux?  Go there.  Eat.  Drink.  Be merry.  Tell them I sent you.  Eat more.  Drink more.  Be merrier. 

Our own personal security for the night out and girls who honestly believe it. . . hilarious!

Babysitter who didn’t bitch about us being late . . . awesome!

YE discussion forum tonight . . . wild success. 

In between YE discussion and Roux. . . a non-nugget. 

I love this city.

The end.

Photo Update

I’ve been really lazy about photos and blogs lately.  Well, if you consider working full-time,  co-Presidenting a young professional organization, raising 2 children by myself, and pretty much kicking ass every minute of every day lazy, I guess.  And, if you do, we’re not friends anymore.

Back in the day, I had all sorts of time to tell you about all of my wonderful adventures.  Now, I barely have time to sleep, so things like photo uploading and blogging are pretty low priority.  I really value my sleep.

Plus, I packed on a few pounds during my little “Welcome to instant motherhood!” hiatus.  Not as many pounds as I would have gained if I’d have gone ahead and grown the kids in my own belly, but still.  I’m not too stoked about sharing my fatness with the internet.

BUT!  I’ve now lost a few pounds and am pretty much ruling the world with some P90X, so my self image is back in tact and I’m happy to share fat photos with you.  Lucky you!

Now is a really good time to mention that I am possibly the most fortunate single mom in the entire world because I have a former business partner who is also a single mom and we have a very, very, very fantastic arrangement worked out wherein we alternate kid weekends.  So, I am kid-free every other weekend. . . and I swear to God, that is what has saved all of us from insanity.

So, when you see photos of me acting like a complete fucking ass and/or hear stories about me acting like a complete fucking ass, you can rightly assume that the kids were safely tucked in bed being supervised by a responsible party.

Unless the photos are of both of us acting like complete fucking asses, then you can assume we shared a sitter and had a VERY GOOD TIME OUT.  Or that we locked the kids in a cage and left them in the alley behind the bar while we drank.  You know, whatever.

Anyway.  Here are some photos. 

These are from the 20s themed event that my mom was here for.  Except, I look like exceptional ass in all of the photos with Mom, so I’m not posting any of them.   I look like partial ass in these photos, and that’s as far as I’m willing to go.

These are from the BBBS Bowl for Kids’ Sake that none of you donated to, jerks.  We were all 80s, all night, and you know how I love that.

We took the kids to the Oasis over my birthday weekend (wasn’t it BEAUTIFUL for late January?).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot to do before I start drinking.

Another year, old maid

I’m becoming quite the seasoned pro at not dating.  Though, I can’t take all the credit myself.  Once I mention kids, a good 65% of men bolt on their own.  And, just so you know, I’m not talking about young guys here.  I’m talking men in their 30s, afraid of children.

I expected this, but I guess I didn’t really think about how much it would annoy me.  I didn’t consider the assumptions men would make about me, and I didn’t consider how much those assumptions would really, really irritate me. 

I assume that people get to know me pretty well, pretty quickly.  So, I didn’t figure that any man would ever think I was trying to chain him to my responsibilities.  Uuuh, because if anything, y’all, I’ll do the complete opposite.  Just FYI, you’ll be lucky to ever meet my kids, let alone have any hand in raising them.  It irritates me to no end when a man meets me and assumes that I’m desperately seeking a father for my kids.

Dudes.  That is so not the case.

In fact, I’d be ecstatic to find someone just to hang out with on my kid-free weekends who knows how to dance, enjoys being out with friends, and can tolerate me under the influence of a drink or two.  Seriously, that’s all I can handle right now anyway.  It seems relatively simple to me, so why is it so impossible?

I haven’t been on a date in over a year now.  I haven’t had any sort of dating activity whatsoever in over a year.  At all.  Seriously.  For a year.  A YEAR!!! 

A YEAR?!  WTF?

Yeah, so maybe you don’t want to live vicariously through me because um, my life is all fantastic and whatever, but there are parts of it that are pretty lame.  L.A.M.E.  Lame.

We’re back to one year and counting.  At what age do I officially become an old maid?  

41?!  >:(