and the mets will WIN!

i wish i could somehow show this photo to myself ten years ago.

“chill. you will find a GORGEOUS man. a good man. and you will have a baby boy with curly blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes. and they will both love you so much that they root for the mets.

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so wonderfully ours

to my hunny on your second birthday,

two. oh my. my boy, my heart, my world. you are two. how can this be? on one hand i can hardly believe two whole years have passed since we met. on the other it seems like an entire lifetime ago when it was just me and baba and snoop dogg.

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keep f*cking going.

today was the longest of my marathon training runs. this week and in particular this run have been glaring up at me from my training calendar for the last six months.

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i come back to the pavement.

i ran sixteen of the slowest miles any human being has ever traveled on friday. by the time i crossed the threshold into my house i was utterly defeated. my pace is no where near where it once was.

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i believe more.

this morning… while eating handfuls of banana chips and playing with his little people toys… my almost two year old stopped dead in his tracks. he looked up… smiled, waved, and said “hi!”

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in the thick of it.

there are many lies new parents are told. one of the most popular, aside from, “you can sleep when the baby sleeps,” is “it only gets harder from here. you will miss these days when they are older.” each time i hear this lie… and i hear it a lot… i have to physically bite my tongue to stop myself from replying with a firm, “shove it up your ass.”

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it started with jethro tull.

my mister and i unearthed a copy of too old to rock ‘n’ roll: too young to die! while rummaging through bins at a record shop in seattle a few years back and have been hooked on stacking wax ever since.

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