Wild Thing

I'm not exactly the out-doors type. Actually I'm not even a mow the grass type. But of course, I chose to marry Bear Grylls. This means that from time to time I must make my way into the great outdoors. Recently, we did just that. I have one word for you: Camping. This to me says: Bugs. To him this says: Fun. Needless, to say our ideals about this greatly differ. Despite my fear of the thousands of creepy crawlies that I will soon be sharing a bed with, I went. It's late and getting dark so we set up camp, s'mores over the fire- all is well. We went with friends and the next morning everyone is roaring to go "do" something. The something they choose is bridge jumping. Now to me, bridges are for walking or driving. NOT jumping off of. We arrive and everyone is all of the sudden dare devils. Here they go: back flips, swan dives and what looks like some very painful landings. No. Thank. You. But then something comes over me, must have been a lapse of judgement and I decide I'll jump too. I climb over the railing. Hello! A railing is there for a reason. I realize that half way over. Now I'm already over and so I just stand there and look. It is a looonnnnggg way down. I dream there is a huge float below me that I can fall into but then I open my eyes and still nothing. Just water. So my sister jumps and others.. now it must be my turn. I stand there for what felt like an hour. In all reality it was probably a minute. I step off. I'm pretty sure at that moment all my life flashed before my eyes: my husband, my family, the children I'll never get to have. BOOM! I hit the water and come back up. I'm alive!! And I'm not hurt. Amazing. Now that it's over, I'm glad I did it, but one time was more than enough. Maybe this is a story my children will like to hear.. or maybe it's just a story I'll tell myself from time to time when I want to remember that somewhere in me there is a wild side.

Workout Barbie

So today I went to the gym in an effort to get healthy. Ok.. ok.. let's be honest- why do most of us go to the gym? To get hotter. Well anyways, on my quest for some sort of hotness, I ended up in Workout Barbie's cycle class. Workout Barbie is not like every other gym rat. She is the elite. Perfectly spray tanned with huge muscles. Her hair is down and meticulously fixed, along with her make-up. She has a half shirt on that shows her incredibly toned stomach and I could go on and on about her perfection. I will stop though- you know the type. So I get into her class- fear comes over me. I know right away she will kick my butt but I am determined to keep up with her. So I'm giving 110% while it appears she is only at 50% and not even breaking a sweat. Then I realize the reality of this situation. She is THE Workout Barbie. Half plastic, half muscle. Not woman, not even human. She is on another level.. I finish the class but I look like I have just stepped out of the shower and smell less than pleasant. Never fear, Workout Barbie is still perfectly intact- not a bead of sweat- and she's headed to another class. The moral of this story is congratulations Workout Barbie's of the World! But I like to give a toast to the other 99% of women. Real, full of flesh humans that must keep this world going. One load of laundry, one stop by the grocery, and one day of work at a time.. So I say here's to us!! And to a new Barbie on the market- Realistic Barbie! And Ken so sorry but that's what you're getting. Look for her sold in a store near you..