when men act like women.

First things first: Mya was riding her scooter down a hill tonight and was pretending to fall into some really tall grass, and it was all fun and games until she fell into some smelly dog poop. I wish you could of seen her face. She was paralyzed with fear and shame. Tim and I laughed so hard that she could do nothing but laugh at herself too. Needless to say, she will be more careful about her scooter acrobatics in the future, and I will be cleaning some smelly laundry tomorrow. Boo.

Second, I ran four miles in 29:40 tonight. My left hamstring was burning like crazy, but I pushed through the pain and finished my thirty minutes. I had this really annoying cross country coach in high school who used to ride behind us on her bicycle yelling, "Dig in girls," as she would pretend to hold a spoon. I can still hear her voice in the back of my mind, and it still makes my shoulders twitch. I hated that coach and I hated those three words, but you know how some things just stick with you even when you wish they'd leave, well, "dig in" has stuck with me all these years and pushed me in my dire running moments. Oh Celeste Cohorn...I still think you're lazy for riding a bike beside us instead of running next to us, but thanks for the phrase because my legs have never looked this good. 

Third, as I was running on the treadmill, I was watching the Dodgers game. In fact, I'm still watching it as I write this post, but that is not important. As I watched the game and more importantly, as I watched the other protein shake-drinking men watching their beloved team fall behind, I decided there are distinct moments when men act like women, and one of the times is when they watch sports. They get all stressed and discombobulated, which causes them to pace the floor without reason. They get moody and snippy when things aren't going their way. They start to sweat and experience momentary hot flashes when something unexpected happens, good or bad. And they play the best game of silent treatment if their team loses when they should've won. 

I obviously know this from first hand experience seeing as my husband is extremely invested in every Michigan team. He displayed this wide array of emotions the other night when the Tigers lost to the Red Sox after David Ortiz hit a grand slam in the bottom of the eighth. His mood dramatically changed. I looked at him, sighed and thought to myself: He is plain crazy. How can he be so happy one minute and so unhappy the next? He is unreasonable. What am I supposed to do with him? Oh great, now he's giving me the silent treatment. How can I change this? 

And then it dawned on me. He probably thinks the same thing about me 60% of the time. And that is when I decided not to push the subject, and I just let him be because let's be honest...that's what I always want when I'm moody and stressed, I just want to be left alone. 

He won, even if the Tigers didn't. Come on Tigers, don't fail me now. 


  1. Haha! I would just die if I fell in poop! Glad May could laugh about it. And holy cow, you are fast! Way to go! I laughed out loud the last part. So true with me. Poor Steve. Being a girl is so complicated. Whenever we watch sister wives, Steve always says, "Why would any man want to deal with four wives!" I don't know either. He is always in the doghouse and there is always on or two of them who are having an emotional breakdown.

  2. Oh my gosh! That dog poop story. I would be crying--even as an adult, I'm pretty sure! What a big girl. Derek doesn't really watch sports--except March Madness, so I consider myself lucky I am only prone to HIS madness a couple weeks a year.


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