Worms and workouts. Memorial Day redux, again.

The day before the last day of school last week brought a terrible thunderstorm to Northeast Florida. The rain poured down in sheets and wind ripped through the trees like a buzz saw. But the next morning was clear and cool as the Tyrant and I walked to the bus stop for her last few hours as a fourth-grader. We had our eyes down because she likes to look for doodlebugs. Or roly polys, or the latin word armadillidiidae, whatever you callRead more

HARDEN UP, PEOPLE. A CrossFit update.

I haven’t talked about CrossFit lately because it’s so fucking hard  the bane of my existence very challenging, and when I’m away from it, I need to focus on other priorities, like feeding the children and Facebook. But I am still doing it, partly because I’m aiming to one day wear some trendy booty shorts, and partly because it keeps me strong.But now that I’m more than a half-century old, I’ve readjusted my approach. My goals include being strong and fit, but notRead more

On loss, grief, and resurrection. And CrossFit.

I didn’t want to go. I felt creaky and unmotivated, tempted to crawl back into bed and spend Saturday morning watching HGTV. “Come with me,” said Hot Firefighter Husband. “I miss you. Let’s do it together.” He was headed to CrossFit Black Hive for the 10 am class. The workout, in CrossFit lingo, was a Hero WOD – a fierce, intimidating workout named after a soldier or firefighter who had died on duty. This lineup was particularly grueling: a 2.3 mileRead more

A new CrossFit gym, fallen heroes, and working out for a reason

Did I mention we’ve joined a new CrossFit gym? It’s called the Black Hive, so now I’m a member of the Hive. #badassish Hot Firefighter Husband and I are the oldest people working out there by about a hundred years, which is sort of awesome because people look at us like DA-AMN, I hope I’m like that when I’m old. Which we are not. But you know how silly those young hipsters can be. Also, there’s some sort of unwritten rule at theRead more

CrossFit and writing and wayward thoughts

I have a whole list of things I need to write about. You people need an update on my house. We’ve got new Pterodactyl developments. Hot Firefighter Husband found a romantic streak. I have a secret I’ve been keeping from you, which is not a secret if you’ve seen me in person lately. It’s been weeks since the Savvy Sister solved any of your problems. And the Tyrant completed an illustrated short story collection. But a giant PacMan hovers over myRead more

Body image, deadlifting, bisexuality. That’s how I roll.

Did you see this year’s Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue? No? Me neither. Hot Firefighter Husband won’t let it in the house. He doesn’t want our kids to see it, and he does’t want the girls in particular to see their mother swooning over it. It’s true! I love looking at those perfect bodies! (Note to self: explore possible bisexuality at next therapy appointment.) I also habitually compare myself to the models, and this drives Husband crazy. “Those women are freaks.Read more

The burden I’m carrying/dropping right now

Peeps, I am in a trench. You know how I get. My 2014 Happiness Project has taken a direct hit, and me and all the metaphorical paperwork are flailing about in our own little wind tunnel. My eyes have swollen up from crying. I think I might look rabid. IT’S TOO MUCH, IT’S TOO MUCH, I keep wanting to scream. Instead, I just whine the words to Hot Firefighter Husband, who strokes my hair and lets me snuggle with himRead more

Spirit Days: Make someone happy

Today I’m launching a new feature called Spirit Days in which I’ll try to make us all feel better about not going to church. Here’s the first installment! Sometimes Crossfit Andy makes us listen to Lil Wayne music while we’re working out. The lyrics are extraordinary. And girl, I fuck who I want And fuck who I dont Got that A-1 credit Thats, that Filet Mignon OR I don’t know about you (chea) But I’m really, really fucked up (chea)Read more


Last night I dreamed I was involved in some sort of cruise ship accident. It may have been a terrorist attack. As the tragedy unfolded, I lost one of my children, and the word ‘lost’ is a euphemism so I don’t have to put words to the Unthinkable. In the dream, I was devastated; also, I became upset because I couldn’t find clean shorts for the child I didn’t ‘lose.’ I shuffled around what remained of the destroyed ship, sobbing,Read more

Getting stuck in the down position, and other life metaphors

I keep telling you, I’m super-duper strong. I did 125-lb front squats last week. But for months now, I’ve been struggling with push-ups. I can do a real push-up, on my toes and everything, but I only go half-way down. “Not a real push-up,” says Crossfit Andy. Well, fuckers. Who cares? Okay, I care – not because it’s something I can’t do, but because it’s something I should be able to do. I can’t figure out how to use our vacuum,Read more