The votes are in and this was hard. Extremely hard. I had to run an extra 3 blocks just to sift through the information in my brain just to come up with the Primo Water Winners. Six, in particular, helped spur me to write but I finally wrote their names and picked from a hat. But, you’re all Primo in my book. Even you readers in Bombay and Indonesia. Yeah, I see you peeking at me.

They were all such great suggestions that I spent much of this weekend just writing. Trying not to think too much or too hard about it, just writing. Even though she wasn’t chosen, I have to give a shout out to Natural Mel who gave me such a great iDea for keeping my iPod dry by putting it between 2 sports bras. Genius! Added bonus is that the girls are super protected, though I couldn’t breathe easily while running this morning.

So, the following folks need to email me with their addresses and Primo Water has agreed to deliver a case to your doorstep:

Beth who wrote this thing that is now on a post-it note on my bathroom mirror: “That moments of stupidity are inevitable and that they are hopefully fleeting and that education – whether it’s giving them something tangible or creating for them the tools to survive – is what keeps all of us going.”

Lisse who rarely comments, but once wrote of my favorite things in my angry letter in Catharsis. She wrote: “I’m always impressed with how someone else’s bad behavior jumps right out at you, and you go ahead and call it what it is.” I don’t know why, but her words stayed with me long after I read them.

Tricia who has a large family and could use the extra water bottles for a trip to the beach! She has 8 kids. I’m fatigued just writing that, but everyday she gets up to be a good mom and a great partner and both take an amazing amount of work. I’m going to squeeze the pee out of her at BlogHer. It’s ok, she’ll be replenished with all that water.

Remember when I said I’d been working on some freelance writing? Well, one of those pieces is up over at Alpha Mom. If you’re a Chicagoan or you plan on visiting sometime this summer, I wrote about 50 Things To Do With Kids In Chicago that hold special places in my heart. Hop on over and leave some comment love or add your own in the comments if you so desire.

I have all these irons in the fire with my writing and that has terrified me because I have to keep reminding myself that I WRITE, THEREFORE I AM A WRITER. I don’t have a MFA and I was never a Fellow and I didn’t become a Teacher’s Assistant when I was in college, but I like putting down words. There’s something freeing about taking memories and laying them down on paper. My mom recently gave me Beverly Donofrio’s book Riding In Cars With Boys and I commented how her words could have been mine, her experiences were close to mine (except the drugs, but that’s because I’m a wimp and perhaps that makes me smart or lucky or something) and then I thought, “Kelly! THIS is the summer! Write your book! Do it!”

So there’s that.

I’m also playing host to my 8-year old nephew and the energy alone is quite a buzz. He lets me say goofy stuff to him and just shakes his head. One of his prized possessions is a wooden sword that he wears in the back of his shirt AT ALL TIMES even when we were eating dinner last night. We were play-fighting yesterday and I shouted, “BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL” and my He-Man reference was lost on him, but he giggled nonetheless. He’s one of those old souls and he is an only child who mostly eats chicken nuggets, but I’ve promised his mom that I won’t starve the poor kid. I did kick his butt on a marathon bike ride yesterday but had to stop at Culver’s and get him food halfway through. We sat there and talked like we were 80 years old, that kid can really hold a conversation. I expected him to tell me to hurry up already because he needed to get to his Mah Jong game with Murray and Sylvia.

If I’m slow to post in the next few weeks, just bear with me because this book seems to be spilling out of me regardless of what my own agenda is. That’s frightening to admit because I’ve just made that public and you might hold me to it. It’s why I don’t ever post about trying to lose weight for fear of periodic comments like, “How’s the diet going?” and “Did you work out today?” and “Did you really eat that ice cream? Tsk. Tsk.”

It’s so hard to keep mum on this huge writing project I was asked to participate in and I feel like I’m taking my own hands and covering my mouth to stop myself from blurting it out. But remember that scene in that horrid movie “Pretty Woman” (I’m critical of movies, no joke. Don’t ask me about that new Sex & The City movie because I’ll probably just burst your Carrie Is A Goddess bubble.) when Julia Roberts goes back into that store on Rodeo Drive and tells the woman she’s made a huge mistake?

“Big. Huge.” You know, with emphasis. “BIG. HUGE.”

That’s the size of this thing I’m trying not to tell anyone. Not to irritate you to the point of exhaustion with me, but you will know sometime next month.

Until then I’m off to battle with my sons and my nephew and probably get the crap kicked out of me. Wish me luck. Greyskull is on my side.