-more please.

fathers and sons camp out.

blessed be thy name.

i've realized the true meaning behind this mormon holiday.

it has NOTHING to do with creating a wonderful bonding weekend for men and their little men through camping in the desert, eating food off untwisted wire hangers, peeing on piles of fire ants or enjoying the wilderness with fellow twig and berry members.

it has EVERYTHING to do with getting out of the house and leaving me the hell alone.

as brandon was walking out the door at 5pm on friday (suppose to leave at 3:30pm) he said i wasn't acting sad enough to see them go. really? did i volunteer too quickly to retrieve the camping equipment from the garage and stack it neatly into the back of the car? was it the seamless preparation of 3 meals chopped, organized and sealed perfectly into coolers filled with ice? perhaps i was smiling to excitedly as i filled the car to the brim with gas, making sure there was as little work as possible for brandon- eliminating all hurdles obstructing his exit. oh i know- maybe i did cuss a little too loudly when i discovered the boys' duffle bag full of warm clothes and diapers on the floor of the boy's bedroom an hour after they finally left. (brandon's only responsibility was to carry it to the car). the sweating and anxiety over them returning home early because they didn't have the bag was probably too obvious.

i know what busted me- as brandon was giving me that final hug- he could sense the internal happiness flowing through me due to the secret knowledge that i was going to get an entire evening to hang out with chipotle tacos, a disgusting kardashians marathon and my body laying flat on its back. (cue the angels singing).

when you've birthed nothing but boys and your husband is a man- fathers and sons weekend is the sh*t. -heather lewis

the ONLY downfall was that i signed up to race in Pat's Run saturday morning- making me wake up at 4:30am. i left the utopia of that empty house in the early dark hours and rushed into the waiting arms of an excited and nervous jonelle. this was her first race ever and it was an absolute blast running beside her and watching her tear up with every passing mile.

and let's be honest- this race was like an extended vacation anyways. a friend got us all sponsored through Powerade which included high necked race shirts, the most gorgeous fanny packs and a steak breakfast. who eats steak minutes before running 4.2 miles? this girl does. because that's what perfect weekends are made of.

jonelle, dave, kym, shugg, some guy that kind of looks like dave and me.

and because jonelle did an amazing job and because my boys were still gone and because life just needed to be a little more perfect- we spent the rest of the day getting massages and hanging poolside with a sexy breakfast burrito and a whole lotta silent people watching.

booyah.