My littlest kid has been sleeping for three hours- STRAIGHT. In the middle of the day. I don’t know what to make of this, yo. It’s baffling to me.

My older children have asked me at least sixteen kabillion times to take them to the pool. What they don’t know is that every time they ask me, I add an hour to the wait in my head. I am the meanest mom ever.

I spent Saturday night floating in the pool, staring at the stars and listening to Offspring and 311 play at the amphitheater behind my Mom’s house. I felt like I was 15 again. That’s how I used to get all my free concerts back in the day.

Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon at Stone Brewery trying NOT to get drunk. Those little tester shots of beer are perfect for this endeavor. It’s enough to taste the beer but if you slip slowly, you can stay pretty sober.

During said trip to Stone Brewery, I only punched my brother once and it wasn’t even on the arm where he got his newest tattoo. I’m such a good sister. Or beer makes me nicer.

One of those is definitely true.

If you can find it, you should try this beer: Dogfish Festina Peche. It is all kinds of delicious and fruity and tart. Yum.

I haven’t run in over a week. I am terrified to start again because I know it’s going to be so very hard. But the longer I put it off, the more scared I am. Hello, My name is Thee Procrastinator.

Last night, I sat in the jacuzzi listening to two teenage girls compare Wicca techniques and oral sex. I know teenage girls talk about this crap, but I was amazed that they chose to have these discussions with an adult in the same jacuzzi with them, not 5 feet away. Flabbergasted. Also? Am old.

In the last three days, I haven’t eaten a single meal at home. Unless you count the Arby’s I bought and brought back to my parents house. My stomach is starting to rebel. As is my ass.

It’s very possible that I have the greatest parents ever. This has nothing to do with my stomach or ass, but it should be said.