-the escape from fat camp

i don't even know where to start.

there are too many details.

although i love descriptive writing, there are some situations that are so insane that there aren't enough words to paint the picture accurately.

you really had to be there.

so here's a recap to jog my own memory 20 years down the road:

we went to an all inclusive japanese themed spa in san marcos, ca.

upon arrival they sent us to our separate room, had us measured for our "issued" clothing for the week and then schedule our stay with 6 HOURS of training each day and MINIMAL food provided by them at the communal meal times.

this "relaxing" girls trip to the spa ended up being military training with a side dish of Heaven's Gate.

we did our best for about 18 hours.

and then we fled.

we mentioned that we were heading into del mar for some shopping and burgers and the fellow guests all gasped in unison. they'd never know of anyone to leave the property.

what?

we didn't know that we weren't suppose to leave either.

we left the compound and while stuffing our faces with fries and soda we made a call and arranged to have our rooms packed by the cleaning crew so that we could sneak back in and make a quick stealth like exit.

so after 2 hours of riding in the back of some del mar waiter's car (full of campfire scented clothes) -another story in itself- we pulled into the Grand del mar with our smuggled luggage and a new sense of hope for resurrecting this bless-ed vacation.

ahhhhh..................
we headed straight to our room.

2 queen beds, a bradly cooper movie on a large flat screen, room service and taking turns in the scarface sized bath tub. redemption.
we totally made up for the lack of food at weirdville, usa by over eating at every other meal.

7 hours got lost somewhere at the spa.

we turned off our phones and watched people.

there was another movie night with room service where the physical activity looked like this:

-sit up

-cut piece of steak and put in mouth

-lay down

-chew meat in mouth

-swallow

-and repeat through 2 movies and an episode of TMZ.

the gluttony was fabulous.

and then we had to leave.

the only things that kept us from crying were the stories about awkward conversations during the forced meal time at "couple's retreat" where i was forced to stare at a man's chest hair poking out of his room issued komono and how we had to bang on the kitchen door for some carrot juice to keep us from passing out.

thanks jo for being you.

life just wouldn't be as amazing without you in my stories.

-easterfest.

sweet.

we just got right to it this year.

it was the first time we've dyed eggs. ever. and the boys were little geniuses.

there were no brown barf looking eggs.

i was actually impressed with their precision and patience.

yet another thing they did NOT get from me.

and i feel 15 minutes of fun is totally worth 3 days of green/yellow/orange fingers.

and then we went to dean and jonelle's easter egg hunt.

freaking cute little party.

we always feel so loved at their home.

and when the bunny said he'd do face painting on the kids he had no idea what the lewis boys would order.

not the suggested butterfly or rocket ship.

i said we got right to it this year.

-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.

st. patrick's day with moms.......

we decided to meet jo and her crew on mill avenue today for a little fun.
we didn't realize it was "fat girl in green tube top with a splashing beer in her hand" day.
the kids loved the ruckus.
i loved witnessing jo verbally "assault" a woman on the sidewalk in her zen way.

lady: TRY MOVING!!!!
jo: you're.........rude. (if she had been wearing white gloves she would have removed them by the finger tips and swatted the woman in the face)
lady: RUDE?!!!!!??!! you *$&#&@^&$*@&!*!
jo: yeah rude you fat, fat, fatt......... (couldn't finish because the lady got bored and walked off).
me: what was that?
jo: you were on the dang phone and i needed some help!
me (after hours of thinking of a comeback): you should've said- "hey lady! don't be mad because you look like you're pregnant with anger. and beer".

oh yeah sucka. don't mess with us. we'll get you. we'll talk about you .......... behind your back!
i promise we use to be much quicker on our feet.
next time.

anyways- here's a video i made of our psycho babies.

-the apple didn't fall far!!

i took piano lessons from ages 5-16.

and i hated it.

i really didn't mind playing i just HATED practicing.

who doesn't?

(besides my super talented older sister?)

my mom would laugh because every time i'd sit on the bench, i'd get a super pouty and disgusted look on my face.

she called it the "piano face".

i'd pull the piano face whenever i had that same piano practice feeling of misery.

-at Fabricland

-waking up for the paper route

-doing math homework

-eating scrambled eggs

-eating oatmeal

-eating cornbeef hash

-pitting cherries

-mowing the lawn

-collecting for the paper route

-making my bed

-cleaning the kid's bathroom

and so here we are now- decades later- and i'm finally seeing a trait i've passed on to my first born. brooks looks and acts exactly like brandon but with one banana french toast protest experience from this week- i can now see that he's got a little mccain blood in him too.

nailed it!

-vanity sucks

dear me,

i know you feel super ugly everyday living through the weird, stringy, undefined stages of growing out your hair but hang in there sister. there are only 2 styles that you look good in- short and long. the rest of it will make you feel like a filthy piece of bluh but you were hellbent on chopping 13 inches off last year and now you need to live with that rash decision.

you're a year in.

one more to go until you're back on that self-esteem super hair expressway.

and yes, it's ok to pull it back everyday.

and no, it's not ok to talk yourself into chopping bangs just to mix things up.

growing out your hair is the great humbler and you're somehow growing on the inside too.

i know it doesn't help to have pure silver regrowth but it's just an "illusion" of female pattern baldness- not the real deal. and what's so bad about having to retouch your roots every TWO AND A HALF WEEKS? i'm sure lot's of girls would love to endure that chemical high bi-weekly too. (brain cells are so early 2000's anyways).

now remember me, looking at pictures like the one posted below will only cause you more pain. yes, we loooove short hair. but we looooove long hair better. and so does our husband. (not sure why i just started speaking to myself in plural). so resist heather. resist and resist.

sincerely,

heather

ps- if the length of my hair really effects my mood so dramatically, does this make me a boring person?

with fellow hair grower outer- audrey

-FYI

let's make a list of ways you'll know i'm mad at you if you're my spouse:

1. i'll wear my sock monkey pj's to bed

2. i'll rent barbara steisand movies to watch. alone. in bed. wearing previously mentioned jammers.

3. i'll cook only 2 (rather than the usual 3) options every meal. so you can either have mac and cheese with the boys or some of my swiss chard and stewed tomato soup.

4. i'll stop sending you "fun" MMS texts during the day.

5. i'll pick up a book from another tween series borrowed from my 8th grade babysitter in the middle of our conversations.

6. i'll eat the rest of the brownies.

7. i'll send the boys in to tickle you when you fail to respond to your alarm clock for an hour straight.

and

8. i'll blog about stupid lists like this

good thing i think you're the cutest thing on the planet.

cuteness gets you very far in this house.

-"Well it wasn’t my idea Murray, David Bowie told me to do it."

thera sent me a text me on friday suggesting we get together with our boyfriends, bret and jermaine, while our husbands have their guy's night slash gayfest with video games and back rubs.

i asked if we could have treats.

she said yes.

i asked if we could have a random photo shoot.

she said maybe.

little did she know i usually get what i want.





thanks thera for the best stress relieving night ever. when our husbands decide to run off together, you know where the left over ice cream is.

-fallen panda (my mom is going to love this post)

the stage is set:
the actors are in position:
the audience is seated and ready:
one last word of encouragement to the cast:
and may i now present to you (in full length) brooks's first theatrical performance:

"fallen panda"
(please ignore all of the distracting noises from little brother ade)

wow. so deep.
brings me to tears.

-cracking

this is my get down to business face:

i've been busy.
and will continue to be.
thank heavens for a crappy camera phone.
so i can document some of the exciting events such as:

i love being busy.
i swear.
5 more photo shoots this month and then i'll have time to breathe.

-did you know?

i present to you the new mr and mrs heather lewis:
every once in a while i see a picture of myself where i look like a man with boobs.
i use to be a man (without boobs) in high school.
it's brandon's biggest darkest secret.
he's the modern day jonny lingo.

before the days of waxing my face, seeing the tragedy in white nylons or wearing clothes that fit, i was such a sweet heart:

what the hell.
happy tuesday night.

-happy happy

happy birthday
my man!
there's 2 things brandon really hates:
taking pictures of food
and
public birthday celebrations.
but he obliged to both because he's married to me- the bday queen- and knew i always get what i want.
we went to The Capital Grill (thanks to a $100 gift card i received from a client) and had steaks and his favorite-
fancy restaurant mac and cheese.
it just tastes that much better when it costs $15.
and then to cap off the elegant evening of dining we went to walmart.
barf.
i told him he needed to pick out some gifts for the boys to wrap and give to him in the morning.
it's either that or i'll buy him stuff i want like a swiffer vacuum or lip gloss.
once again, he obliged.

he's not of frequenter of "the wals" and upon entrance, he said the greatest thing of all time:
"oh yeah. i love it here. i can fart and not even care".

at least it will smell like some quality cuisine.
because that's how we do.
love you lew.

-sweep the leg

sometimes inspiration hits you at the weirdest times.
one minute i'm doing the dishes and trying to figure out dinner
and the next minute, i've loaded up the car and i'm heading to supercuts with my heart racing in pure excitement.
brooks has been needing a sheering.
i've been searching for a suitable style.........

bingo.
who wouldn't want to look like hollywood's hottest villain?
karate kid quotes welcome and....................GO!

ps- how much do you looooove alli (with an i)?

-the end of me.

why NOT to take an 18 month old to the movies:

5:10- movie starts. there's only a handful of people in the theater. sigh of relief.
5:11-14- he's eating the buttered popcorn. he's so content, i don't even mind the greasy hand prints on my new black jeans.
5:15-17- oh great. he's discovered the squeak in his chair and is doing the jackknife maneuver over and over again to speed up and magnify the squeak.
5:18- crap. there goes half of the bag of popcorn. right onto THAT floor.
5:19- he's off of the chair. phew.
5:19:30- he found my diet pepsi and in a way washed off the hand prints by pouring the cup down the entire right side of my body.
5:20-21- oh sh*t. he's eating the popcorn off the floor like a dog. no hands.
5:22- fit #1 begins as i pull him off the floor and back into his seat.
5:23- fit #1 ends. jackknife squeaking resumes. my patience wearing.
5:25- fit#2 begins when i noticed the squeaking ended only because he has somehow lodged his head into the seat crack.
5:27-30- fit #2 ends. head dislodged. stomping and ice skating on dirty spilled popcorn begins.
5:31- fit #3 begins when he finally slips on the popcorn and tips over the remaining popcorn.
5:32- fit #3 ends. moving up front and playing on the emergency exit stairs begin.
5:33-38- he's content on the stairs. wow. i think i actually just watched 5 minutes of this stupid movie. wish i had my soda.
5:39- he's back to sitting next to me and has found the only other seat in the entire theater that'll squeak when jackknifed.
5:40- jackknifing ended by me when i feel a nervous breakdown setting in.
5:41- running up and down the aisle begins
5:42- running up and down the aisle ends when he catches the toe of his red croc and face plants
5:42:15- i'm running to the bathroom to keep blood from completely ruining my new, ruined black jeans.
5:43- with the help of an empty popcorn bag, two bendy straws and fierce determination, i perform my own hysterectomy in the the bathroom stall.
i'm not having anymore children.
ever.
we did get in a couple rounds of DDR.
so i guess that was good-

next time, it's just me and the 3 year old.
and some WD 40.