let me in!!!

So, apparently they will let any idiot be a parent. I am proof positive. This morning, after filling out a zillion product registration forms, I put Dilly in the kitchen and the other two girls in the playroom (we're splitting them up to limit flu exposure). Anyway, after placing the girls in said rooms, I put on my shoes and headed out to the mailbox.

And here's where the stupidity comes in. As I exited, I thought, "I had better check that the door isn't locked ... no, wait. They would never shut the door anyway, so it doesn't matter."

So, off I went. And you know what happened, right?

Yup. Doodle locked me out.

AND. I. WATCHED. IT. HAPPEN.

As I turned to come back in I saw Doodle at the door. Knowing what was next, I sprinted and as soon as I got to the front steps. She slammed the door shut. (while laughing - she's evil). Hoping I was wrong, I turned the knob. LOCKED. So I ran to the side door. LOCKED. Then I remembered, the back door was unlocked. Yeah!! But not really. Because when I got there, the door to the back porch was locked. And then I started to panic.

After thinking about everything that could go wrong, I finally just started banging on the windows, ringing the doorbell and yelling. After about 5 minutes of my craziness, Dizzle finally came to the door and asked who was there. Then I had to explain how to unlock the door (easier said than done).

But alas, I got in, grabbed a spare key and hid it outside. Something I should have done a long time ago.

smooth ... almost

So, we've moved in. Like completely moved in. The boxes are empty. The house looks lived in. And so what if there are not pictures anywhere? Maybe we don't like looking at wall hangings.

All joking aside, after weeks of upheaval, we are settled. The girls love the new house (except at nap and bedtimes ... go figure) and J and I love it too. Plus, we are back on a schedule (Thank God) and I've even returned to running (an even bigger Thank God.) And amazingly, everything has gone rather smoothly.

Well, mostly smooth. There was that one minor issue with the new sofa not fitting through the doorway. But no biggie, we just sawed through the door frame. Oh, and then there was that blown out tire on the way home from my first post-baby race (shhh! don't tell my doctor ... but I did PR and finished 3rd in my age group, 7th in my gender). But really, once we changed the flat, it was all good. For like an hour, when suddenly drywall and water were falling from the ceiling in my laundry room. Apparently, we have a leak. OK, so maybe things aren't going that smoothly. But don't they say bad things come in threes? So, at least our current string of bad luck should be at an end. Right?

songwriting. Dizzle style ...

Remember last week when I mentioned Dizzle's interest in breastfeeding? Well, apparently my conversation with her was just the beginning of her fascination. You see, just the other day she came up with this little ditty ...

"I love my little boobies,
I love my little boobies,
I have little things like my boobies.
I don't like Doodle's boobies
Or the baby's boobies,
Just big girl boobies like I have."

And right there, in that very moment, I almost peed my pants ... because I couldn't stop laughing ...

easy peasy ...

I have been asked several times this week, "How's life with three?" And every time I respond, "Easy peasy." And although it might seem that I am being facetious, I'm really not. Life with three (thus far) has been surprisingly easy. Aside from needing to allot extra time to get out of the house (and the obvious sleep deprivation), things have remained pretty much the same around here. Maybe it's the tight ship I run, maybe I am just a kick ass parent or maybe I just have really easy going children. Any which way, I'm not complaining.

And speaking of those easy going children, Dizzle and Doodle are a big part as to why things are going so well around here. To them, Dilly is the best thing since sliced bread. They are head over heals in love with their little sister. They always want to be a part of what Dilly is doing (which makes for some pretty uncomfortable nursing sessions). Oh, and the kisses. They are all about covering her in kisses. Very cute and very annoying all at the same time.

But, let's be honest here (if you don't want to slap me with all this "it's so easy talk" by now, I'm sure you will in about 30 seconds). So, back to my point. Let's be honest, I should have expected things to go this way, especially after my experience in labor and delivery. You see, despite being my longest labor, it was by far the easiest. Like crazy easy. So easy that at times I thought, "Wow! This is the most relaxing day I have had in over three years." And it really was. I basically spent the entire day pain-free (even before the epidural). Plus, I'm pretty sure I slept for seven of the eight hours I spent in that hospital bed. It was fantastic. (Go ahead, curse me out. I completely understand. I'll shut up now.)

i'm scared. can we do it again?

A week ago I took Dizzle to have her cast removed. Prior to the appointment, I explained that the doctor would cut it off, but it would NOT hurt. Sure, it would be loud and kind of tickle, but IT WOULD NOT HURT.

So, you know exactly how it turned out, right? Yup, she totally freaked. Kicking and screaming. The whole nine yards. And the worst thing was that there was really nothing I could do. My huge pregnant belly kept me from holding her and my every attempt to soothe her was pretty much shot down by screams and tears. But we survived (after post-removal milkshakes had been negotiated).

Unfortunately, her elbow wasn't fully healed. So, they put another cast on. Which obviously meant that another cast would have to be removed. When we went to the appointment today, I had high hopes. Dizzle and I talked about how it didn't hurt last time, how I was going to hold her, how she was going to be brave and most importantly, how we would stop for milkshakes on the way home if she survived.

Upon entering the "cast room" (their name for it, not mine), Dizzle got to see the girl in the next curtain get her cast cut off. Which, surprisingly, was met with excitement and comments like, "Ooooh, that's cool. I remember doing that with my pink cast. Let's take off my red cast and then I will get a soccer ball cast (obviously, she was getting ahead of herself)."

But then the apocalypse hit and all hell broke loose. The doctor walked over to Dizzle and told her it was her turn and Dizzle started yelling.

"I don't want my cast off. I think the boo-boo is still there. Don't do it. I don't like tickles. I need to keep my cast."

Again, all of my calming tactics failed, so I did what any sensible mom would do. I pinned her down and covered her ears. She continued to yell and cry, but they were able to get her cast off. Then, not more than 10 seconds later, Dizzle wiped away her tears and said, "So, when are they going to put my new cast on?"

What? Are you serious, Dizzle? A new cast? You just totally freaked out because the last one had to be removed and now you want another one so that we can go through all of this again? Are you on crack?

We left with out another cast. Thank you God!