Workout today: 7.1 miles/ 60 min. on the treadmill while the kids napped

Workout yesterday: heavy lifting my Yogurtland spoon

I was going to paddle today in preparation for the Malibu SUPathon. Didn’t happen. So if you’re watching the news on November 11th and hear a story about a girl lost at sea, that’s me… the one who didn’t train enough.

I’m like a 10 year old. I have a favorite outfit that I try to get as many days out of as possible before throwing it in the wash, which is a challenge with two small people who like to do art and eat with their hands. It’s my supersoft Wildfox sweatshirt and Lululemon leggings.  Mint green and burgundy never looked so good together.

I also dress like a 10 year old.

I love hanging out with my mom every chance I can get, so when she told me the other day that she had decided to take today and Friday off of work, I was super excited to see if she wanted to have breakfast at Dish, a place I had been to a couple of years ago in La Canada and that recently opened in Thousand Oaks. And, naturally, I had a coupon:


I usually avoid going to the Janss Marketplace because there’s something creepy about it, but I’m going to make an exception for this place from now on. Gone was the flare of TGI Fridays, and in its place sits Dish.

I ordered these suckers with a side of scrambled eggs and really good coffee:


Pumpkin pancakes of the gods.

And my mom ordered this:


Apple oatcakes of the gods.

There was no way we could finish, so, like the hoarder that I am, I boxed ’em up and took ’em home for our dining pleasure at a later date. The girls and I survive off of leftovers when the husband goes to work. I’m cheap and lazy like that.

After my mom treated me to breakfast (Thanks, Mom!), she treated me to a pedi at one of my favorite nail salons, Love Nails in Oak Park. You probably have mom-envy right about now.


The nail lady was annoyed that I didn’t want my calluses taken off. Less money for her, more comfort for me. I work hard to maintain them ugly feet!

After channeling our inner Real Housewives, I picked the girls up from preschool and went to the Disneyland of Westlake:


Kids playing with toothpicks. Safety first.

The cacti outside our house have grown so tall that I’ll need to buy more Christmas light for the Cactus Wrapping party on November first, rain or shine, so I couldn’t pass on the giant shatter-proof (have you met my family? or my yard?) decorative balls (seated next to the Cheerios).

My mom met us at Costco, so we went down the toy aisle. And guess which one Olivia wanted:


It’s okay. We know a few good cops.

After Costco, we went over to my mom’s house for lunch, and she sent us home with a bag of these:

Monster cookie. Oatmeal, peanut butter chips, rice crispies, M&Ms, addictive substances.

More mom-envy.

Her really bad lab counter-surfed an entire batch of them last weekend, so when she made them yesterday, she bagged them and put them in the microwave for safekeeping.


I guess that’s what happens when you feed your lab off a plate. With a fork.

I’m really glad I don’t have the recipe for these cookies. I’m certain that if I did, there would be a whole lot of cookie dough eating and hardly any cookie baking. Because I’m nutritious like that. I figure that eating relatively healthy foods the week leading up to a race is good enough.

Until then, I’m going to go look for the pot of gold behind my house.


Autotune this.

What’s behind your house?