i'll get around to it eventually

I've started today's post about 4 times, but its been one of those days.

Let's just say I recently finished cleaning peanut butter from the bottom of my youngest son's tennis shoe. The good news is, that is NOT my son in the photo. Could you imagine?

Happy Monday.

pansies need not apply

Unless you've been holded up watching episodes of Oprah that you Tivoed in April, chances are you've seen the signs for various 'boot camps' around town. I hear it's serious business. Usually anything with the word camp would be a good thing. Think about it...

Girl Scout camp.

Art camp.

Football camp.

Boot camp? Unless we're spending it trying on new foot fashions for the fall season, not interested.

So last night, I went walking with a friend of mine, a feat in itself because it was my first official workout in MONTHS. Not exactly something to brag about, but the year was not a good one, so I focused on the basics...family, work, showering, you know.

My friend in the neighborhood first suggested we 'walk' a couple of weeks ago and I agreed. How hard could it be? Left, right, left, right, you get the idea. I do that every day. But, girlfriend meant business. She began a stride that told me this was no casual walk, we were powerwalking, and this wasn't the time to admire the landscaping or gripe about the color of someone's shutters.

I'm pretty sure I was panting after the first 5 minutes, kinda like my black lab on an 90-degree day. The girl's got stamina, not to mention willpower since she awakens before her kids step on the bus to work out, meanwhile I was anticipating the ice cream bar I would devour once this walk business was over. That's not to say I didn't enjoy the conversation, the girl talk, the laughter, though my stories may have been hard to comprehend in between the gasps for what I swore would be my last breath.

Still, I owe it to Robyn for breaking me out of my forever-long workout interim where I felt walking upstairs to sort my laundry qualified as exercise. We walked almost 50 minutes, even stopping so I could tighten my laces, which was about the time I noticed I was sweating, and then Robyn dropped the bombshell: We would wrap our calorie-burning session with lunges down an entire sidewalk.

Of course we would.

I followed her move, squatting my play-doh like legs and praying I would find the strength to not hug the pavement. I can only say that the walk up my stairs once I arrived home seemed more difficult than climbing the rope in gym class and I collapsed on my bed. One day later, I'm feeling the results and figure this beats any boot camp I could have joined.

And it's certainly better than watching Oprah.

so maybe I do mind getting older

Sitting at a stoplight with my two sons in the backseat, I decided to pluck an unruly and oh so unattractive gray hair that was protruding from my scalp.

They've been peeking through my blonde strands on occasion, as much as I hate to admit it. Forget dying them, I just yank em out and call it a day, figuring it was my little secret. Until my 8-year-old mumbled this from the backseat...

'You pulling out your Granny hairs, Mom?'

Yes, son. Yes I am.

he has cute covered

We featured this little guy on the show yesterday morning. He's the son of a dear friend of mine, and I couldn't resist. You'd think he was southern, but don't let him fool you.

The ending is my fave.

Enjoy.

just call me stubborn

I know better.

I know the importance of going to the doctor but still avoid it, much like I avoid sitting in restaurant booths where the stuffing is spilling out. It doesn't sit well with me.

In simpler terms, I don't like it.

Not to say that dislike is a suitable reason. Now that I'm 37, I have accumulated a few ailments that should probably be monitored or charted by someone other than my mother. Moms are good with advice, but a phd along the way wouldn't hurt.

I'm 99.9 percent sure I am a candidate for eyeglasses, considering the floaters I often get while working with computers. My co-hosts say I squint more than I mention Starbucks, and I'm now sporting a pair of drugstore reading glasses. A trip to an eye doctor to read that infamous letter chart in the dark would quite possibly be a quick fix, but I haven't gotten around to making the appointment and its only been three years.

On an entirely different note, I've felt a good step behind the rest of you for as long as I can remember, and have come to the realization that I...serious now...likely have a concern with attention span. Let's just say the symptoms are a good match, and if asked, my family wouldn't fight me on this one. I can remember forgetting a huge project in school, and finishing the work in a bathroom stall the morning it was due. I also lose keys, cell phones, and my train of thought. Of course, I've been meaning to make an appointment with a doctor, but keep forgetting.

And then there was the appointment I did make, but forgot, only to be billed a no-show fee.

I'm making progress on my doctor avoidance, after my husband practically made me see a foot doctor for a problem I thought stemmed from running, but what do I know. Instead, the doctor told me I was the unlucky recipient of feet with no arches, and to stop wearing heels...stat. 'Save em for weddings, funerals and date night.' Well worth the co-pay, right? Hey doc, those inserts you gave me don't exactly fit into cute flip-flops around the pool. Then there's the cortisone shot I got in the ankle, a fabulous reminder of why I don't jump at the chance to sit in waiting rooms and read magazines from 2008.

But, I'm trying.

a big fat thank-you

Thank you to everyone who sent birthday wishes my way. Friends and family and listeners who tune in every morning have been more than kind, and I couldn't be more appreciative.

I'm ok with getting older.

37 doesn't seem any different than the day I turned 30, minus the gray hairs I now pluck while waiting at a stoplight. Some people don't like birthdays, but what's another year? The age never bothers me, maybe in part because I've realized over the past few years what is important in life.

Certainly not the little things.

Instead, my kids, husband, family, and friends are the reasons I smile. Being together, in good times and bad, making memories while knowing these times may not last forever, that's what makes life good. So we make the most of our days, and try our best to take it all in.

My dad once told me 'You are the company you keep.' And I think I'm surrounded by some good ones. So thank you.

A big fat thank-you, at that.

a couple of J's stop by

A quick reminder...

Jason Aldean and Jack Ingram join us on the show this week! Jack's chat will be his effort to break the Guinness record for the most interviews by an artist in 24 hours.

Stay tuned...

sleep-deprived or easily distracted

This is guaranteed to put a kink in your day.

I ran to Kroger last night to buy a gallon of milk following an evening with the girls. Fast-forward to this morning. I'm here at work, and just got a call from my husband who asked, 'Didn't you go get milk last night?' Sure did, but for some reason he couldn't find it.

It's still in my car.