1717 miles and two nights without the girls ...

That's what I have to look forward to (or dread). 1717 miles and two nights without my babies. Honestly, I'm not happy about the prospect of either. Tomorrow afternoon, we are going to load up our tank of a car (oh how I love my SUV!) and drive somewhere in the neighborhood of 12 hours to drop my kids off in Rhode Island. NOT FUN!! Not the drive. Not leaving them.

You see, I have NEVER left my girls overnight. The only time I was apart from Dizzle was the night Doodle was born. And they have only been left with a non-family member FOUR TIMES. Can you say I'm slightly attached? If anyone in this relationship needs to cut the cord, it's me. The girls are fine without me, but I worry about them CONSTANTLY when we are apart. I'm beginning to believe that I have a problem.

And even though we are leaving them in the capable hands of my in-laws, I am still not at ease. Thanks to horror stories I've heard (both on TV and from friends), I'M FREAKED OUT! I know in my heart that they will be fine, but I also convinced that I am going to worry so much that I'm not going to enjoy the two days of peace and quiet (oh yeah, and the rehearsal dinner and wedding - the reason we are leaving them in the first place). AHH! I so need to calm down.

But let's be honest here. I'm not just like this with my kids. I'm the same way with J. Every time he has a business trip, I get freaked that something is going to happen to him. And every time he comes home just fine. But it never gets any easier.

I know that there are people out there who want a break from their kids, husband, whoever. But that's so not me. I want to be with them all the time. I want to share all my experiences with them and be there for all of theirs. Now don't get me wrong, I need some me time ... but I'm good after an hour or two. NOT 48.

Seriously, someone just tell me to shut up and get over it. It's going to be fine.

OK, OK. I think I'm better now. Maybe.


***Just a note: Since we are going on vacation (even if I am entirely stressed out for the first quarter of it), I am going on vacation from this blog too. Unless something completely absurd happens. Which it might. Dizzle and Doodle are crazy. Plus, I'm sure you'll want to know that I survived (and the kids too) the separation. So maybe I'll drop in briefly. But I wouldn't count on it.

an accident-free night ...

Dizzle has been potty trained during the day since she was two and a half. In fact, the day she turned two and a half marked 30 days no accidents, which for me is enough to have labeled her "potty-trained". But up until now, she has only been daytime trained. At night, she still sports those princess-laden pull-ups (funny, since she never really wore them when we were training her.)

Anyway, I have never stressed staying dry at night. Dizzle has always been a heavy nighttime wetter and a heavy sleeper (she has leaked through every diaper on the market). So, in an attempt to keep the situation as stress-free as possible for both of us (that and the fact that we have her and Doodle gated in at night - I don't want children climbing into my bed), I figured I would just let nighttime training happen whenever it did. And to my amazement, when I got back from my Saturday run there was a DRY pull-up waiting for me in the kitchen. I was beyond impressed! (I know lots of kids are nighttime trained at the same time they are during the day, but for us, this was HUGE!!)

So, Saturday was an all-day celebration with ice cream, dinner out, and of course a reward!! Thanks to her accident-free night, Dizzle is twirling around in her Cinderella gown as I type this. It's beyond cute.

Now, I just hope that dry "princess panties" (as we call them) are here to stay. Know how I can make that happen?

of country music and lost connections ...

I'm sure you're wondering where I've been. On an amazing trip? Living the high life? Hovering over the toilet bowl? Well, it's none of the above, although option number three has seemed eminent the past few days.

In actuality, our house had a case of lost connections. Lost phone connections. Lost Internet connections. You know, THOSE crucial connections. The ones that are completely unimportant they are until you lose them. Really, they are like your best friend. You see them and talk to them everyday. Then your mother grounds you and you are cut off completely, sure that there is no way that you will ever survive.

I'm sure you can tell. It's been a rough few days.

So what have you missed? NOTHING. Either I have been to tired/sick to notice or this may have been the quietest (read: boring) week the B girls have had in a while. (Nothing really happened with J either - Sorry to group you with the girls, honey).

But you didn't come here to read about nothing, right? Because if you did, I'm going to start writing posts on topics such as, "How to sing your ABCs" and "Eating with a spoon 101"

So I will leave you with some tidbits about last night's Trace Adkins concert.

1. I do not know a SINGLE Trace Adkins song. But I still had fun.

2. People at country music concerts are an interesting sort. Mullets were EVERYWHERE!! Who thinks that's really acceptable? My mom says it's a "southern thing" Apparently, that doesn't occur at country music shows in the North.

3. Bring a designated driver with you to the show. Then have them get a wristband for drinks. You just upped your limit from five drinks to 10! Way to play it smart!!

4. Small clothes + fat people = hurt eyes for everyone

5. There is nothing creepier than a 21 year old girl with a 50 year old man, groping each other. Now that's just wrong. And painful to watch.

And the list goes on and on ...

i was second (at least alphabetically)

This morning, at the a** crack of dawn, I loaded up my gear and headed out for the 3Sports Triathlon. I arrived just after 5:30, set up my stuff in transition and began to wait. FOREVER. OK, not forever, but over two hours, which is like forever for a tired, bloated and over-hydrated pregnant woman (I peed three times in that two hours).

You see, unlike my last tri, where I just guessed a swim time, I actually had a past performance to base my entry on. So, being the honest citizen that I am, I entered a 2:30 100 meter time (calculates out to 7:30 for the whole swim - still kind of a lie, I swam 7:58 last time). But that's not the point. What I was getting to was that by entering a "more accurate" seed time, I got to sit around and wait. I waited so long that three-quarters of the participants had already started. I waited so long that the first people out of the pool had already finished the entire race before I even got in line to start the swim. Needless to say, getting to start took a while.

But once I did start, it was a pretty awesome day. I jumped in the pool (once again with zero practice) and actually did well. I finished the swim leg in 7:23 ... under my seed time and 30 seconds faster than the last tri. Once I was able to drag my heavy body (yes, I raced Athena) out of the pool, I ran (more like a slow jog) to the transition area, where I threw on my shoes and helmet and got on my bike. And somehow, I cut 23 seconds off my first transition. So I was nearly a minute ahead of my last performance!! (OK, admit it. I rock!)

Now that I got my little ego boost (because I really need a bigger ego), things changed. Although I felt strong on the bike (I obviously wasn't pedaling hard enough), I added 1:33 to my time going into what I knew was going to be by slowest leg. The run. My transition was good, 9 seconds better than the last time, but that meant nothing in the long run, since my 5K split was 3:22 slower than seven weeks ago. EEK!! Now granted, it was way hotter and I am seven weeks more pregnant than last race (but I'm not looking for excuses, or anything).

Regardless of my time (1:22:27), I felt good when I finished and then I felt even more awesome when K (who was third in her age group) and I saw a list where I was ranked second (now, that I think about it, I'm pretty sure it was just an alphabetical list - but we failed to notice). Either way, it was a good day. Although not second, I was sixth in the Athena division and the self-proclaimed winner of the pregnant division (they should really start one of those).

But now, my tri career is on hold (at least until the little bean makes his/her appearance) and I'm totally bummed. I've had soooooo much fun with these races that I really can't wait for the next one! So who's in for the 3Sports Triathlon in July 09? With a whole year ahead of me, I MIGHT actually train.

and then they closed the pool ...

Earlier this week, (yes I have been too tired to post) the girls and I joined two of my running mates and their children at the pool they belong to. The objective of the trip was for me to get some swim practice in before Sunday's triathlon, while my friends kept an eye on the girls. Well, that didn't really happen. I just wasn't up to lap swimming, and really, was 20 minutes of swimming going to help me all that much during the tri? Probably not. Seriously, at this point I will just be happy to finish. No records. Just finish. Without falling asleep.

So instead, the afternoon at the pool became a great opportunity for the girls to tackle their swim demons. OK, well Doodle doesn't really have swim demons. In fact, she is so comfortable in the water that she really doesn't see the danger in it at all. Good, because she is willing to jump right in. Bad, because she doesn't so much know how to swim. So I have to watch her like a hawk. And since walking in water (even as little as a foot and a half) can be very difficult for someone who just figured out how to walk on dry land, I had to grab my submerged child at least 20 times. Not so much fun. Really, it was more nerve-wracking than anything else.

But back to these swim demons. If you read my last post about swimming, then you know that Dizzle is not a fan of water. Basically, she freaks out and holds on to someone, anyone for dear life. And the same was true in the kiddie pool. Dizzle proceeded to get in and immediately freeze, saying something to the effect of, "I don't want to get in." Of course!

But that's when the turn around happened. E and I somehow managed to show her that she could sit down or kneel and her head would still be above the water. And she finally calmed down. Before long, she was running back and forth, splashing, laying on her back, "swimming like a mermaid" (as she calls it). It was quite impressive. Especially for a girl who won't let us rinse her hair in the bathtub. Then suddenly I looked at her and don't you know it, she was putting her face into the water. Rock on Dizzle!! But of course, with all this progress something had to go wrong. And it did.

After sticking her face in one last time, Dizzle swallowed some water, proceeded to choke, cough it back up and then THROW UP. That's right. The fruit snack she just finished was now floating in the pool. Can you guess what happened next? Yup. They closed the pool. Water - 1, Dizzle - 0.

it had to happen eventually ...

It happened. A mere two days shy of 11 weeks, it happened. Weeks before I ever thought it would, it happened.

I CAN NOT BUTTON MY PANTS!!!

OK, well I have one pair of shorts that I can't button and to be honest, if I really suck it in they do button, but that is not the point. I needed to pull out my Bella Band, WAY WAY WAY earlier than I had hoped to. Major suckage. But really, the prospect of sitting/standing/moving in these pants with the button done was just way too painful of an idea to grasp.

Plus, it was kind of ugly. I'm pretty sure that I was starting to look like one of those teenage girls with the super low jeans (yes, I wear my jeans super low - also not the point) who walk around the mall with their mid-drift hanging out and muffin top all over the place. You know who I am talking about. The girl who apparently doesn't have a single friend who will tell her how bad she looks or offer up the suggestion to purchase the next size up.

Are you getting the visual?

Anyway, I had this completely unrealistic dream that I wouldn't really "show" for a good 8-10 weeks more, or that my baby bump would sit nice and high so that my ultra low rise pants would actually be useful for more than showing off my a** crack. But I was wrong on both accounts. So here's to 29 weeks of elastic waist pants and spandex!

she charges for her services ...

I have been super tired as of late, and yesterday was no exception. After waking up at 5:30 to run 11 miles, I knew that come afternoon I would be out cold. I managed to make it until 12:30 before my eyelids felt like they were being magnetically pulled together. But a nap wasn't going to happen, especially with lunch time on the horizon. So instead, I sat like a blob on our playroom couch, letting others do everything for me. This included Dizzle.

I asked her to get me something (it was either the phone or the remote, but I was kind of out of it, so I'm not really sure). Either way, she gave it to me and then put out her hand and said, "Two dollars, please!"

What? A three-year old who charges for her services? And two dollars? Isn't that kind of pricey for a task that required her to walk across a 12 foot room? (Hey, but at least Dizzle already knows not to undervalue herself.) Anyway, I passed her off to her father, who is the resident cash carrier in our house. He, too, laughed at her request and sent her back to me.

I see this as a clear sign of things to come. Years of my kids asking me for money (and other things I don't want to grant them) and then me telling them, "Go ask your father!"

10 weeks down, 30 to go ...

In the past, I have heard people refer to pregnancy as a marathon and until now I didn't completely understand what they meant. Sure, labor is hard work. (personally, I don't think harder than a marathon - but yes, still hard). But now that I have both the experience of running 26.2 miles and pregnancy, I am really starting to get how similar they are.

Let's think of it this way, IDEALLY you would train for weeks upon weeks to prepare for a marathon. And the same is true for pregnancy. Yes, I am aware that both can be accomplished with little preparation, but in a perfect world, everyone who tackles one of these amazing feats would do the prep work (that's why docs have those "pre-conception" appointments - not that I've ever known anyone who has had one).

Anyway. Then the race starts, your adrenaline is so high that you can't believe the ease at which you are running. Miles pass and you're not quite sure where they went. This also holds true for early pregnancy. In fact, those first few weeks can be so effortless you probably wouldn't even know (and why would you?) that another person is growing inside of you (but still an enormous amount of work is being done).

But soon, the pace slows down and you realize what you are in for. For me that was at about the 10K (6.1 miles) mark during the marathon. I looked at the clock and realized that I had gone out too fast and that I had a heck of a lot of miles in front of me. And instead of thinking, "I already finished six miles." I was thinking, "But I have 20 to go."

And that's right about where I am now. I'm 10 weeks into this pregnancy and the initial excitement (where you are bursting to share your joy) is coming to an end and the realization of what I'm in for, and how much longer it's going to take is slapping me in the face. And now I'm thinking, "10 down, 30 LONG LONG LONG weeks to go."

I know I'll make it. And I know it will go by a lot faster than I think. I even know that every last agonizing minute will be worth it, allowing me to look back and think, "I can't believe my body was able to do that!" And of course, the same was true for the marathon.

See, they really are the same. I mean, seriously, marathons and pregnancy (and ultimately, parenthood) are life changing events designed for those of us with a little streak of the "crazies." Really, you have to be a little off your rocker to want to take part in either of these things. Especially, once you know what you're in for. (Apparently, some of us never learn their lesson. How else do you explain Baby B #3?)

deal of the century ...

If you have ever had a child, you probably purchased a stroller (or six). Then when you had your second, you bought a double stroller. And if you're like me, a double JOGGING stroller. But what to do when that third child comes around? If you are lucky (or not cheap like me), your oldest will be in preschool or kindergarten. So you won't need to upgrade to a triple. But in cases of cheapness (and multiples), purchasing a triple stroller may be a necessity.

This is exactly where I am. I will have three kids under four and a husband who works long hours, which means that most of my runs, and every time I go to work, I will have three kids in tow.

I researched a ton of triple jogging strollers, and by ton I mean four. I know you're thinking, "FOUR? Seriously? There has to be more than that." Well, there's not. And with the exception of the cheapest one (which is not made by a company that I can find any info on) they are all over $700. With $900, looking more realistic. That's just WAY TO MUCH to spend. So what's a girl to do?

Answer: Find the deal of the century. Thanks to a fellow Stroller Strides instructor, I came upon a triple jogger, though well used, that fell in my price range. In fact, it hit my target price dead on -- it cost me NOTHING!! How awesome is that?

Yes, this triple has it's drawbacks (it doesn't fold and has no sun shade - not missing, rather it was never there) but it fits in my car and is sturdy as all heck. Oh, and did I mention it was FREE? Obviously, the pros outweigh the cons. But I am still left with one problem ... what am I going to spend all that extra cash on?

tears of craziness?

OK, I think I may have lost complete control of my emotions. Personally, I am going to blame it on pregnancy hormones, because if it's not, I really need to get some anti-depressants.

Anyway, Dizzle was watching Franklin (a TV show about a turtle and his friends) while I was running on the treadmill. During the first mini-episode, Bear (Franklin's best friend) was about to become a big brother. Franklin and Bear talked about how amazing it was going to be and how when the baby grows up they might get bunk beds. Looking back at it, the storyline was rather hokey. But what was I doing a mile into my run? CRYING!! SERIOUSLY!!

What the heck?!?! Have I completely lost my mind? Please, someone save me from myself!!

alarm? what alarm?

Today (like every Saturday) I had a long run. We (me and my chicas) were up to 11 miles and I had it all planned out. Leave at 6 (a.m. that is) head through Broad Meadows for the first five, then out to Crump for the last six. I figured that we'd finish a little after eight and I'd have some down time before I had to teach Stroller Strides. I even had a new book on hand that I wanted to start during the very rare "kid-free" time I was going to have. But of course, like all good plans, this one faltered ... and I nearly missed the run.

It went down a little something like this. I set the alarm last night for five a.m. as I climbed into bed. Then I rolled over and passed out. And apparently I must have taken a sleeping pill before I went to bed (or maybe it was just pregnancy brain), because when that alarm went off, I kicked J and thought to myself, "Why the hell is that thing going off?" And I went right back to sleep.

Then, over an hour later I woke up in a state of panic. I looked at my watch. 6:20! Oh, crap! I kicked J again and blurted out, "I missed my run!" Knowing that the girls would be passing the start point just before seven, I hauled tail and got ready. (more complicated than you think - get dressed, get about 96 ounces of fluid, eat, get a snack, grab the garmin, my id and my cell.) Then right as I was about to head out the door, I remembered that R was on vacation and I had to make the call about the weather for Stroller Strides. I jumped on the Internet and saw that there was a chance of showers and both the sky and the radar looked iffy. So I moved class indoors (which I probably shouldn't have ... seriously, R I don't envy you) - which is also a complicated process of email and phone messages that seemed to take FOREVER in my time crunch. Either way, I finished, jumped in the car, and sped the entire way there.

I made it. I had to explain my stupidity, but I made it. I even managed to squeeze in eight miles before I had to book it to Stroller Strides.

And speaking of squeezing things in, Doodle managed to do a little squeezing act of her own this morning. When I got back from class, I found the girls in the playroom while J was upstairs. And when I walked in the room, I found one heck of a surprise. A poop-filled cloth diaper on the floor. My first instinct was to yell at J for being stupid enough to leave a soiled diaper on the floor. But when I did, he swore up and down that he hadn't done it. And you know what? He didn't.

Doodle did not have a diaper on. And her jumper was completely snapped. She had managed to stick her hand up her pant leg, undo the Velcro on the diaper and squeeze the rather bulky mess through the leg hole. Apparently, we have a little Houdini on our hands.

And what did we do? Laughed. Shook our heads. And said, "How the hell did she ever manage to do that?" Oh, yeah and then we cleaned her up.

bye, bye long locks ...

Today was a day of change in our household. After over two years without a haircut, (OK, I had half an inch trimmed off last summer) I decided to lose the length and my horribly blond (yet dye-free) and fried ends for a more manageable look. And by manageable, I really mean, wake up and do nothing to my hair and still look fabulous. It could happen, right?

But I wasn't alone in my transformation, Dizzle also said goodbye to all her excess curls today, and now we're both sporting new summertime looks.

Personally, I think we look pretty hot. But I'm not quite sure if my new style will help me look any more "mature" than my last one (especially since it's pretty much the same cut that Dizzle got). Actually now that I think about it, I'm probably still going to get carded.

remember that thing I said about June?