Honey Boo Boo and Baton Relays

I'm addicted to two new things as of this week.

1. Honey Boo Boo Child. It's 1000% ridiculous. I love it for about a gazillion reasons. For starters, it's a sister show to my Toddlers and Tiaras train wreck. In addition, it involves a teacup piggy, mud diving, awkward filming with silent pauses at the most hilarious of moments, pregnant teenagers, and bug scratchin' crazy people. I might have danced about our bedroom in my pajamas saying "A Dollah makes me Hollah" until I Chris couldn't stand it any longer. Did you expect any less from me?

Moving on.

2. Mama Laughlin. Her blog. It's insanely inspiring and a written with lingo that is more-fly-than-I-could-ever-try-to-be. I can't stop reading it.

Chris and I have been running a lot.  Go ahead and interpret that loosely. We have formed our own sort of Davis Family Relay Team at the duckie park where we pass the baton jog stroller while we sweat and heave from heat exhaustion while Coach Coop sings Chariots of Fire.

Mama Laughlin's blog. She has lost a crazy amount of weight and is a fashionista/Super Woman all wrapped up in one. My favorite thing? She says things like "I'd rather *poop* in my hands and clap" when asked why she doesn't have a Twitter account, and "holy calf fries" when she talks about stuffed peppers, and "*heck* yes, I can do that twice, in heels, pushing a baby stroller" when asked if she will ever run a full marathon, and my alltimefavorite "the vom (dot) com" when speaking of all things throw-up.

Oh, and "lamesauce". I like that one too.

She is sure to make me laugh. And run harder. And faster (than Chris). JK, honey. You smoke me every time.

Anyway thanks to Honey Boo Boo Child and Mama Laughlin, I survived this week.

Which rocked, because I had my pretty much least favorite day in all of history at work on Tuesday. That just about never ever ever happens because I am crazy in love with what I do. Crazy. But still. It was a bad day. I cried. In front of my co-workers.

I blame it on the fertility woes that also accompanied this week. Jazz hands. Fist pumps. Bleh.

You know what though? In less than 12 hours I will have my toes in the sand with this man:

Um. No, not the un-named fireman. My Big Love. Chris Davis.

The man I love like crazy. Upside down and inside out. 11 years of burnin' love, 6 years of wedded bliss. SIX! We've been through a few things together. Just a few. He is my wing man. My heart and soul. My rock. My hero.

Love him, love him, love him.

**Oncologist appointment in the morning on the way to tickle toes in the sand--whisper a tiny prayer for God's continued grace if you think to, pretty please?**

Oh, and if anyone wants to come over and watch Honey Boo Boo with me, I've got it DVRed. That's right. 90 minutes of space on the DVR. Thankyouverymuch.