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January - October 2007

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March 25, 2005 - 10:17 a.m.

My Super Power

Nickelodeon has a blurb in between shows that poses the question, “Which super power would you rather have, flying or invisibility?” The answers given from preteens are about half and half. I, though, have to differ and pick something totally different from any super power ever mentioned before in the history of super powers.

My chosen super power would be the ability to be showered, dressed, make-up on and hair fixed in the blink of an eye. Wouldn’t that be great? You could get up five minutes before you needed to be out the door and be ready in a flash.

That, to me, would be heaven.

Peyton, The Magic 8-Ball

Last night while we were getting ready to eat dinner, Larry and I were talking about joining a gym. My boss gave me clearance to skip lunch a couple of days a week and cut out at 4, so I can get a good hour in before picking up the kids. Larry was giving me a hard time saying I would stick with it. (We joined a gym once before and never went, but in my defense, I found out a few days later I was pregnant with Peyton and a few days after that morning sickness set in and who feels like working out when they are puking their guts up? Then by the time I felt better, I was big and really, who wants to start working out when they are huge and pregnant?)

I explained that this time would be different because a. I’d be leaving work an hour early and get to spend time by myself which is worth the sweat and pain right there and b. if I don’t do something soon my ass is going to be too wide to fit through the doorway.

After listening to my arguments, Larry looked at Peyton and said, “Peyton, do you think Mommy’s going to work out?”

Without even thinking, he says, “No.”

I counter with, “Peyton, do you think Daddy’s going to stick with working out?”

“Yes.”

“Boy, I was in labor with you for 24 hours. You can at least be on my side.”

Larry was laughing and I was annoyed so I thought, let’s make this interesting as only parents of two almost three year olds can do before their kids are really old enough to understand what you’re saying.

“Peyton, do you think Mommy and Daddy are going to make it?” (I know, I know, I’m bad, so sue me. What’s the point of having kids if you can’t have fun with them?)
Again, without thinking, “No.”

Well, that’s just great. Larry stepped it up a notch, “How many years do you think we have?”

“10.”

By now, we were both laughing. Peyton was so serious in his answers. I decided to bring it back to his level, “Peyton do you think you’ll ever use the potty?”

No answer to that question, just him mumbling about 10 to himself. Only 2 and already able to avoid the questions he doesn’t want to answer.

So, 10 years folks. Let the countdown begin.