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I love that my daughter wants to mimic my actions especially when she copies me as I'm working out. She likes to carry around the two pound hand weight while I use the five pound weights and we dance and sing and march around the sofa.

And then? The unthinkable happens.

She gets BORED. Imagine that.

Avery decides that she is through lifting weights and tosses the hand weight onto the tile floor of our kitchen.

As soon as the weight bounced away from the point of impact I saw the damage and was furious. I yelled for Jacob to COME SEE WHAT YOUR DAUGHTER DID and I swiftly scooped Avery up and put her in time out.

While Jacob inspected the damage I told Avery that we don't throw things and that she ruined our kitchen floor. I'm sure she totally understood and suddenly became filled with remorse.

Right.

I showed her the spot that she nicked in the floor and told her to apologize to her daddy. She said "I sowwy daddy" and I could see him melting.

STAY STRONG! BE FIRM! SHE FUCKED UP A TILE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE KITCHEN! WE CAN'T PLACE ANYTHING ON TOP OF IT!

Our temporary fix will be to super glue the chipped piece back onto the tile square and we'll replace the tile when we get around to it.

Once the confrontation was over she was free to go destroy something else. I put the hand weights up so she can't reach them but it's only a matter of time before she finds something else to break.


So yeah. Terrible twos? I'M SO OVER YOU ALREADY.

Disciplining a toddler is a fucking joke.

"Pick that up! Do you want to go to time out?"

"Uh-huh!" Smiles.

No, kiddo, it's not a good thing. So into the corner she goes and after a minute she gets it. This? Is not a game. This is not fun. It's punishment.

This week we have decided to start holding Avery accountable to her actions by implementing time-out since we aren't fans of spanking. The occasional tap on the hand or butt is fine with us but we prefer non-corporal punishment.

Anyway, it isn't exactly working. The only time we send her to time-out is when she refuses to pick up something that she has clearly thrown across the room on purpose. Once her two minutes are up she concedes and puts away her Legos, toast, clay, whatever she has toss around.

I just don't think she really understands that you aren't supposed to throw shit around. How the hell do you teach your kids to quit being assholes with their belongings?

I got a troll on a post I wrote nearly two years ago and I would like to address his/her concerns because they're amusing and I need some content.

Here is the comment:

OMG. What a mess. If you had only eaten real food like any other omnivore your health would've been so much better.

Restless legs: Your body was low on iron, due to your poor diet, and your baby needing what little nutrients you had.

Gallstones: Not enough 'real' fats in your diet.

So you had your gallbladder removed. Didn't take hydrocordone -- kudos -- but took Tylenol, the number 1 cause of liver failure.

Your poor kid. Hopefully you'll drop your pride, and learn to eat real food, including meat, or at least eggs, and cholestrol.

You'll feel so much better, and perhaps your kid will survive beyond age 3-4 without developing ADD, ADHD, if not autism.

The only real point I'd like to make is that I didn't become vegan until after Avery's first birthday. By this point Avery was only nursing a couple of times a day and she was eating a well-balanced diet JUST LIKE SHE DOES NOW.

We are no longer vegan but we are vegetarian and she is very healthy as am I so thank you for your concerns, anonymous toolbox.

I know that I open myself up for criticism but why do we feel the need to attack each others' parenting and life style choices? I want to know how my not eating meat affects you. It doesn't. Thank you for your concern, really, but shut the fuck up.

I miss my laptop.

That is all.

I never thought I'd say this but I have a sports-related injury.

Seriously.

I have patellar tendinitis from, get this, RUNNING TOO MUCH.

Today was the beginning of week three of my 5k training (did I tell you I was doing that?). The first two weeks were awesome; I was overcoming challenges and not giving up when I felt tired like I used to do. The lazy and complacent old Lauren? That bitch is gone, y'all. The new Lauren LOVES to run. On Saturday I ran for three minutes without stopping just to see if I could handle the three-minute running intervals for this week's training. Nailed it. Then on Sunday I decided to see just how long I could run without stopping. After five and a half minutes running at 5.5 MPH I decided to stop but I bet that I could have kept going.

Unfortunately, training six days a week has left my stupid almost twenty-eight year old knees sore and pissed off. My body isn't used to this kind of physical activity and I guess I'm hitting it pretty hard and fast. Also, I don't feel like the treadmill absorbs much of the impact from my weight.

All I know is that when I started the first three-minute run tonight I wasn't sure if I would be able to finish it. The pain was only in my knees but it was awful. I kept running until I heard the 'ding' on my training app and then I slowed the fuck down. After running at five MPH slowing down to three felt like I was barely moving but even at that speed it still hurt.

I wanted to cry.

I didn't finish today's training routine but I did walk for the remaining twenty minutes at a steady 3.5 MPH. I felt defeated. My legs wobbled as I walked home and I was cold since I didn't work up a sweat at the gym to keep me warm once I stepped outside.

After consulting with Dr. Google and self-diagnosing I popped some ibuprofen and relaxed on the sofa. So what if I have to take it easy for a few days? I'll keep walking until I can run without pain. I'm not giving up this time.

So nice try, body. You may have slowed me down but you won't hold me back.