Three Things Thursday ...

Training and Blogging - I've thought a lot about chronicling my training for Rev3 Cedar Point here. But every time I consider it, I walk away thinking, "I wouldn't want to read a recap of every single workout someone else does, so why would I want to do the same thing with my own?" Ultimately, I end up walking away from my computer and writing nothing. Honestly, things are pretty ho-hum around here. No drama. No excitement. No fails or big wins. I am just coasting along at this point. The training during this base period (which ends in one week) is very comparable to what I do year-round. Other than the fact that I am living in Z2 for all of my workouts, things are pretty much status quo.

Skewed Perception - Sometimes I wish I was a kid. Not because they are young and carefree, but rather because they've yet to have their views tainted by the world around them. Everything is fresh and new and honest to them.

For the past few months, I have been doing my best to eat a ton, well, at least enough to keep up with my training, which is growing increasingly harder as my volume builds. Anyway, despite all of the training and mostly clean eating I do, I can't drop a single pound I have gained over the last 18 months. In fact, I've gained more. I've stopped going on the scale, because I don't want to know what it says. I hate how my clothes fit, even though I'm still wearing pretty much all of the same clothes I always have. It's defeating.

I know the logical arguments. Trust me, I do. But, that doesn't make it easier to take in.

But, yesterday, I got a kick in the pants from Dizzle. She was home sick from school and we were talking about subjects that interest us. She said rocks and gems. I said nutrition and exercise. Then she turned to me and said, "I know you like those things Mommy. It's probably why you are so skinny."

Huh? It's not the first time she's said that to me recently. It's just the first time I actually heard her. She can see me better than I can. It kind of make me think again.

Hanging with Dizzle earlier this week ...

I started to notice the changes which probably contribute to at least some of my weight gain. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a window and I noticed that not only are my quads monstrous balls of muscle, so are my calves. They are ginormous. And this morning, I sat on my bed putting on my socks and in the mirror I could see how muscular my biceps and forearms are. When I flex, it's kind of scary. But at the same time, it's kind of badass.

I know I should just stop fighting what my body wants to do. I need to get my head in line and realize all the strength my body has, even if I never have a six-pack. And I have a seven year old to thank for that.

Sisters - Apparently, yesterday was National Sibling Day. I missed the memo, so here's my belated virtual hug to my two sisters, who happen to be two of my best friends.

Year in Pictures ...

Ever have so much to day about something that you can't manage to say anything at all? That's kind of how I feel about 2012 (and a lot of things recently). When I look back, it was an amazing year. I accomplished most of what I set out to do and our family seemed to find a balance that works for us. Life is good. We are happy. And I don't think I have the words to do our year justice. So, instead, here's our year in photos ...

J and Doodle at Disney ..

Dilly, Dizzle and I on the opposite side of the monorail ...

We lost our minds at Disney ...

Disney magic ...

More Disney silliness ...

I found myself of the podium at Patriots Sprint ...

And crossed my first 70.3 finish line ...

Ran my second Hood to Coast with Nuun ...

Made some amazing friends while rocking the sparkle ...

Ended up in Runner's World. Again ...

Started CrossFit ...

Dressed J up like sushi ...

And got our Halloween on ...

Convinced my sister to be a runner ...

We walked hand in hand ...

Ate s'mores ...

Celebrated together ...

Traveled (and broke bones) ...

I got inked ...

J got goofy ...

We bonded ...

Was 2012 perfect? No. But it was ours. We had struggles. We had triumphs. We had tears. We had laughter. We had arguments. We had apologies. But most of all, we had health, happiness and love. And I couldn't ask for anything more.

HCA VA 8K recap ...

Location: Richmond, VA
Date: 11/10/12
Temperature: 38 degrees
Official Time: 41:00
Place in Age Group: 23/369
Place in Gender: 128/2264
Overall Place: 480/3587

The Course:

Fast and flat. Out and back.

This 8K course takes a straight shot up Broad St., which has a gentle grade, for the for the first two miles of the course. Just after mile 2, participants turn left and make their way over one block to Grace St., where they head back towards the finish. Runners are greeted with a the only climb of the course at mile four. It is smooth sailing after that, as the course flattens out and turns right onto 3rd street where the runners are greeted with a steep downhill into the finish.

(Note: This has been and will continue to be my favorite course in Richmond.)

The Good:

The Course: I love this course. It is PR friendly and easy to navigate. And the downhill finish is KILLER. And since they changed the finish this year to an even steeper downhill, it's better than it's ever been.

My Pace (initially): I wasn't quite sure what to expect going into this race. My run volume is down significantly from the last time I ran an 8K (20 miles per week now vs. 50 miles per week in 2010). I knew I could probably finish comfortably with a pace between 8:00 and 8:20, but I would have preferred to run sub-40. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if I was going to attempt to race until I got to the start line and then I wasn't really convinced. I decided to just run hard and see what happened.

Things started out well.

Mile 1: 7:45
Mile 2: 7:53


Two miles in and I was actually two seconds ahead of my pace from my 8K PR. That's when the wheels fell off. I have had a deep cough for about a week and a half. Once I got warmed up, things started moving around and I started hacking. So much so, that I couldn't run and cough at the same time. I am positive that I left part of my lung on the course.

Mile 3: 8:28
Mile 4: 8:54

Once I hit the mile 4 sign, I just told myself I could do anything for a mile and I hauled it in. 

Last 0.99: 7:57

I finished at exactly 41 minutes with an average pace of 8:15. Right where I assumed I would be.


Racing with my sister: Can I just mention how much I love that my sister is a runner? It took me years to convince her to join in, but now that she has, it's pretty much the best thing ever.

Pre-race, not really feeling it

With a post-race glow ...

My Music Selection: For the first time in pretty much FOREVER, I changed my race playlist. And then, I set it to random before I ran. Yet, somehow, the PERFECT songs came on at the PERFECT moments. I was pumped throughout the race and there was a song during every mile that reminded me to push myself.


The Weather: It was 38 degrees at the start of my race. And I dressed perfectly for it. By the end of the race, I was warm, but not overheated. In fact, I wouldn't have minded if it was a little colder.

The Race Length: Even with all the coughing, this race reaffirmed to me that the 8K is my favorite race distance. I love it and wish it was offered more often.


The Bad:

Missed Alarm: Since J was traveling and Gina was also running, I had to wake my kids up crazy early to take them to Earth Momma Mer's house. The plan was to get up at 5 a.m., get ready and then wake the girls at the last possible minute. Unfortunately, I failed to wake when my alarm went off. When I sprung out of bed at 5:30, just 10 minutes before we needed to be out the door, I found out that Gina wasn't up either. Obviously, we weren't really stressing about this race ...

My Mental Game: Despite the fact that this my favorite race, I really wasn't feeling it going in. I considered taking a DNS on multiple occasions prior to and including race morning. I knew I could run five miles, but I didn't feel like I could race five miles as hard as I would have liked to. And racing without giving it your all doesn't really sit well with me.

Considering that I already didn't feel strongly about this race, I also didn't really care if I had to stop to cough up a lung. Had I felt really prepared heading in, I may have tried harder to run through the cough. Basically, I was just disappointed in where my head was at. However, I did leave feeling like I wanted to up my mileage and get back on track.

The Ugly:

My Cough: I can not stress how bad must have looked along the course. My cough was (and kind of still is) deep and loud. And I was spitting out gunk left and right. I feel bad for anyone who happened to run near me. I am sure they are convinced that they were going to catch some sort of deadly infectious disease.

Seaside Half Marathon ...

Did you ever have a bad run?

Like an "I'd rather be lying dead on the curb than running" kind of run?

Yeah, me too.

It's happened once or twice over the course of the last five years. And although, it's been said that, "You never regret going for a run," I have regretted every single steps of those runs.

Fortunately, I have never experienced a run like that when it really mattered.

Until Sunday.

A few months back, Kim mentioned that she was going to run the Seaside Half Marathon. I instantly wanted to join her (mainly because I love Kim, but also because I grew up 10 minutes from the race location). Initially, it looked like the timing wasn't going to work out, but as luck would have it, we decided to change our Disney travel dates and I would be able to race. And even better, I was able to convince my sister, Gina, to make her half marathon debut at the event.

So, it was set. Gina and I would drive up the day before, meet Kim, Alma and Lisa for dinner, race at the odd start time of 10 a.m., and then drive home afterwards. It was going to be great.

And it was. Until about mile 3.

Dinner was delicious (and likely my downfall).

Alma, Lisa, Kim, me and Gina ...

I slept well that night. And I woke up ready to race.

Me, Lisa, Kim and Gina. Yes, we coordinated outfits ...

Anyway, like I said, things were going great until mile 3. I had been on pace to hit my goal, despite the 20 mph headwind. Then I started to feel a stabbing pain in my head. By mile 6, my head was full-on throbbing.

Shortly after mile 7, Kim caught me. Then passed me. I started looking for "ways out." Could I hitch a ride with a spectator? No, there were none. Could I jump on an ambulance? Nope, the only one I had seen was long gone. By mile 8, I was dry heaving on the side of the road. At one point, I noticed a bird lying dead on the road and considered joining him (I am only mildly exaggerating).

Right around mile 10, my nausea subsided slightly and I was able to run briefly. Very briefly. My stomach cramps were making it hard to breathe. It hurt to expand my rib cage. I was seriously considering taking a DNF for the first time ever. But, as I mentioned before, even if I committed to quitting, there was no way to get back other than by my own power, so there was really no point.

Unable to run for more than about a minute at a time, I walked the vast majority of the last three miles. Only in the last two tenths of the race did I even attempt to push the pace (I finished in 2:28:21, in case you were wondering). And I only did that because I knew my mom was waiting at the finish line.

sucking it up for the cameras ...

I have never been so happy to finish a run. Ever. Afterwards, I must have looked and been breathing worse than I thought, because my mom tried to get me to go to the medic. I shook her off, as I wasn't about to miss my little sister finish her first half marathon. (Note: She did awesome and although she swears she'll never run another half, I know I can convince her ...)

Honestly, I am not really sure what happened. I'm still not feeling 100%. Maybe I was (and still am) fighting a bug. Maybe, I was wicked dehydrated and I just didn't realize. Maybe my gluten and dairy filled diet in the day prior screwed me over. I don't know. Regardless, this is going down as my worst race ever.

Three Things Thursday ...

Jet Lagged: Although I returned to the East Coast on Monday morning, I haven't been able to shake being on West Coast time. Usually, I am falling asleep on the couch around 9 p.m., but all this week I have been forcing myself into bed well after midnight. And when my kids are begging to get up in the morning, I find myself bribing them to stay in bed. (Note: I am no better once I get out of bed. I end up walking around like a zombie.)

Needless to say, we can't keep functioning like this. I mean, school starts on Tuesday and those 6:45 a.m. alarms are going to be a rude wake up call.

Half Debut: Since moving to my house in April, I have turned my little sister into a runner (although, she still tries to say that she's not). For a while now, we have been contemplating running a half marathon together. Initially, we were going to go for the Walt Disney World Half Marathon, but finances and logistics got in the way.

Then, I tried to convince her that the Richmond Half Marathon would be a suitable alternative. But, that was a no go. She said that the November date was too soon, so instead, we registered for the 8K (my favorite race of all time).

I figured that the chances of getting her to commit to a half before the middle of 2013 was slim to none. Then this morning, this happened ...

Yup. I got her.

We are headed back to our hometown for her first half marathon in SEVEN WEEKS. And she said November was too soon ...

Off-Season: I'm overcooked. Done. Over it.

It occurred to me the other day that with the exception of the three weeks I took off immediately after Dilly was born, I have never taken more than 3 days in a row off from training. Not even after any of my six marathons. That's just insane.

The past five years of non-stop training has kicked my butt and I need some time to recover. So, that's what I have decided to do. After Patriots Sprint next weekend, I am going off the training plan. Yes, I will still run, bike and swim, but I am cutting my workout volume by about half from 10-16 hours per week to 5-8 hours per week. I am confident that my body needs to reset itself, and I know this will do it.

Missing: Run Love

I'll admit it.

Lately, I haven't been feeling the run.

I will happily swim and bike all day, but when run comes knocking on my door, I look for a place to hide, hoping he won't realize that I'm at home.

And the thing is, I know exactly why.

• I've cut my weekly mileage in half from last fall. For me, running less has made me feel like less of a runner. I doubt my speed. I doubt my endurance. I know I shouldn't question either of these things, but I do. I'm human. It happens.
• My run group has become wicked fast. Last fall, when we were all marathon training, we were all similarly paced. During my hiatus from the group during 70.3 training, everyone drank rocket fuel and took off. Their easy pace is almost my race pace and I feel like I'm sucking wind every time I run with them. It's rather defeating.
• I'm kind of in love with being a triathlete. I want to swim and bike and strength train, in addition to my running. And the only way to fit that all in is to run less than I am accustomed to. My goals are changing, which is fine. I'm just having a hard time keeping that in mind when I'm in my peer group.

With that said, eventually, I give in and lace up my sneakers, but I can't seem to find my "Run Love." Instead, I am filled with "Run Tolerance" just counting down the minutes and miles until I am done.

And although, I quite enjoyed joining my sister, Beans, for her first four miler ever this weekend, my missing run mojo does not bode well for Saturday, when I am scheduled to run the Blue Ridge Half Marathon.

Four miles done. So proud of her.

13.1 miles of hills. 2500+ ft of elevation change. And one monster climb over the first 4 miles of the race.

Insanity.

An insanity that I have not prepared for.

Over the last five months, I have done nothing but focus on Ironman 70.3 Texas, which was pancake flat. I don't even remember the last time I looked at a hill, nevertheless ran one. Perhaps I am setting myself up for failure. Or maybe, just maybe, this race will be so absurd that it can't help but re-inspire my running mojo.

I'm not really sure.

But either way, I'm going to keep putting one foot in front of the other until I find my "Run Love" again. I know it's out there. Somewhere ...

Three Things Thursday ...

Taper Madness - I've trained for a lot of races before, but I am pretty sure I have never really experienced taper madness.

Until now.

Ironman 70.3 Texas is 10 days away and I'm kind of freaking out. Not only have I suddenly been hit with seasonal allergies AND a cold, but I'm pretty sure that my right leg need to be amputated. It's awesome. But, at least with all of my obsessing, I have learned the following things.

I'm confident that I trained well enough to finish.
I'm confident that I am overestimating my abilities.
I'm confident that once I pack my bike, I won't be able to rebuild it. (Note: I only have to lower the seat, remove the front wheel and rotate the handlebars. But it still freaks me out.)
I'm confident that it's going to be freaking hot in Texas.
I'm confident that I am going to get stuck in my wetsuit.
I'm confident that I have no idea how to keep my water and Nuun from boiling in the Texas heat.
I'm confident that despite my notorious list making, I am going to forget to pack something.
I'm confident that I am going insane. For example, last night I had a dream that I accidentally released the air from both of my CO2 cartridges while setting up my bike in transition.
I am confident that I am going to cry when I finish.
I am confident that even if I have to crawl I am going to finish.
I am confident that even if everything goes awry and I am the last person to cross the finish line, I am going to still want to do an Ironman. I'm crazy like that.

Tattoo - Once I have survived Ironman 70.3 Texas, I am going to get another tattoo. The design has nothing to do with the race or my love of endurance sports (although I have considered adding something to it), but I am going to have to stay out of the pool for two weeks so I have to wait. I'm kind of excited. And bummed. I'm going to miss the pool.

Moving - So, in a little over two weeks, my little sister (the one who recently took up running) is moving in with us. We could not be more excited. J and I really want her to be successful with her new career (she just got her esthetician license) and we want to do whatever we can to help her establish herself. So, if you live in central Virginia and could use her services (facials, waxing, professional makeup application, etc), feel free to contact me.

Plus, having here with us will be a huge help to us. For one, I won't have to schedule my workouts around J's travel schedule. Score one for me. Plus, the girls love her to pieces. It's really a win-win.

hell must be freezing over ...

I have two sisters and I absolutely love them to death. When we were growing up, we fought constantly. We were so fundamentally different that we often had a hard time seeing eye to eye. In fact, it was a miracle if we were able to grasp where the other person was coming from. It was rough and even into my late teens, I wasn't sure if we would all turn out to be friends in the end.

With our Dad, Christmas 1990

Christmas 2011

Long story short, we grew. We matured. We experienced loss. And now, we are closer than ever. Yes, we still fight. And yes, in so many ways we are still different. But, as the years pass, we seem to be getting better at seeing the other person's perspective. And unless, the other person is making a horrific mistake, we support each other 100%.

Take my love of endurance sports, for example. My sisters have always been super supportive, despite thinking I was completely insane. They have attended races, babysat so that I could train or race and cheered me on from afar. But, no matter how much I pushed it, I have never been able to get them to join me.

Until now.

A week or two ago, my youngest sister, G, started texting me that she ran a mile. Then another. And another. I told her that we should do a race. She laughed at me. Then I told her we should do a Disney race (the Tower of Terror 10 Miler, to be exact) and she laughed even harder and said something like, "10 miles is seriously far."

So, I didn't mention it again.

However, this morning, I woke up to a Facebook post from her asking me to make her a 5K plan. Last time, I checked, you don't ask for a 5K plan unless you plan on running a 5K. Score one for me.

On a different note, I am pretty sure hell is freezing over at this very moment ...

interrogation ...

Over the past few weeks, Dilly has become quite the kleptomaniac. We first noticed this behavior when we moved our sofas and found piles of toys thrown behind it and shoved into the cushions. Although didn't need confirmation that it was her, she did fess up to the crime.

Recently, Dilly has become a bit more bold with her klepto ways. Occasionally, she'll grab her sister's Nalgene bottle and ditch it in a random place. On Monday, she stole Dizzle's teddy bear and she tried to throw it in the trash can (I caught her as she was putting it in). And on Wednesday, when no one was paying attention, she took Doodle's pajamas and threw them away. We only realized this later when Doodle put something in the trash and noticed her monkey shirt in the bag.

Wanting to know what Dilly was thinking, I sat her down and asked. And I filmed it. Kind of like our own little NCIS investigation ...



And that cuteness is why she gets away with murder ...

Wordless Wednesday: Sisters ...

God, I love them ...

what not to do when you've had the stomach flu ...

As you remember, on Wednesday night, I was hit with the stomach flu. It was the first time since I've been a parent (nearly six years) that I questioned my ability to take care of my children. I felt so horrible that I knew I wouldn't be able to much of anything. So, since J was heading out of town, I called upon my sister, who stepped up big time.

And thank God she did. Although I didn't vomit yesterday, I couldn't get out of bed. At one point, I needed to bring my laptop downstairs to charge and it took me an hour and a half to muster the energy to do so. Whenever I tried to sit up to drink something, the nausea set in. But the worst part wasn't actually feeling sick. It was feeling useless. I couldn't stand that my sister was taking care of everything and all I could do was sit there like a blob.

The thing is that I'm really not good with being unproductive. Lazy doesn't work for me. I wish it did. But, if I sit around for more than a few hours, I start going stir crazy. And being trapped in my bed for 20+ hours was just too long for me.

So, at around 4 p.m., I got out of bed. My sister wouldn't let me do much of anything, but it was better than sitting quarantined in my room. And that's when it started to happen. I started feeling better. Like a lot better. Moving around wasn't making me nauseous. I could eat. A little anyway. It seemed like this stomach bug was really a 24 hour thing.

At 7 p.m., once the girls were in bed, my sister left and I ran through my nightly routine. Made the girls lunch. Cleaned up the house. Started the laundry. I felt pretty much back to normal. Sure, I was only eating pretzels and drinking tea, but I figured I was all good. So, (and this is what you are going to yell at me for), I decided to workout. I put in the DVD for P90X Shoulders and Arms with Ab Ripper X.

I know it was stupid. And I know I should have been resting. But I was bored. And I felt OK. And really, it was fine until I got to Ab Ripper. And then, I wanted to punch myself in the face. I swear, sometimes I really don't think these things through ...

Three Things Thursday, upset tummy edition

1. Yesterday at 5:30 a.m., I ran 6 miles. It was awesome and comfortable and we finished with a 8:56 average pace. Then at 9:40 a.m., I ran another 6 miles with IronJ and our strollers.

But that second run was different. Yes, it was windy. And yes, it was my second run in four hours. And yes, Dilly isn't the lightest child around. But, on a normal day, my running isn't really affected by those things. I could not move. I felt like I was shuffling. It took all of my will to keep going. And it really didn't help that Dilly yelled, "Stop running, please," during the ENTIRE run. We finished with a 9:28 pace, which left me feeling completely drained. I figured it was just a bad run but ...

2. At 7 p.m., I started vomiting. I felt "off" ever since that second run. I thought I was dehydrated or needed more food. Guess not. I probably should have known that I was getting sick when the thought of eating one of my birthday cupcakes ...

didn't sound appealing. Anyway, I spent the remainder of the night either in bed or hugging the toilet. It was bad. Seriously. I weigh 3.9 pounds LESS than I did yesterday morning. And it's not really getting any better. I feel OK as long as I don't stand up or move. Which is kind of hard when you have three children ...

3. But, thankfully, I have an AWESOME little sister who stepped up in my time of need. You see, J was scheduled to leave for Colorado early this morning and I knew I wasn't going to feel up to taking care of the girls. So, at 7:30 last night, I called Angie Pants (who lives 3 hours away in Baltimore) to see if she could take off work and come help me out. Fortunately, she could. She drove down late last night and is currently taking Dizzle to school. I owe her big.

Three Things Thursday, the letter "P" edition ...

1. Polite: Yesterday, Dizzle received an invitation to a friend's birthday party at Build-A-Bear. I opened the invite (yes, I screen her mail) and saw that the party was scheduled for next Saturday. The only Saturday this month that we already have plans for.

I considered not telling her about the party. I knew that she would be upset to miss it, but then I thought about it and realized that she'd be more upset if she thought she wasn't invited.

So, I told her and the conversation went like this:

Me: So Dizzle, you got invited to K's party.
Dizzle: I know! It's at Build-A-Bear!
Me: Yes, it is. But you can't go.
Dizzle: (instantly crying) But I want to go!
Me: Honey, stop crying. You can't go because it is the same day as Uncle J's wedding and you already made a commitment to be his flower girl. You can't miss that. I'm sorry that you have other obligations.
Dizzle: (whimpering) Fine. But can you write K a letter to let her know?
Me: Sure.
Dizzle: OK. I want it to say:

Dear K,
Thank you for inviting me to your party at Build-A-Bear, but I will be unable to attend because I have to go to my Uncle J's wedding in a different state.
Dizzle

And that's when I started laughing. Unable to attend? Seriously, Dizzle? What five-year-old declares that she is "unable to attend" rather than just saying, "I can't go"? Oh, wait. I know. The kind of five-year-old who has a mother who reminds her that she has "other obligations." Yup, we are prepping for the SATs over here.

2. Party - And while we are on the subject of parties, I need an idea for one. Dilly turns two in three weeks and I have no idea what to do for her party. G had two really good ideas, but both of them have one minor detail that could have them blowing up in my face. So I am looking for suggestions. Here's the scoop.

All of our family lives far away, so this fiesta is friends only. And since we don't have too many friends, it's going to be small. Also, I am looking for easy and cheap. Not a lot of clean up and it has to fit within our monthly budget. Oh, and it has to be suitable for a wide range of ages. The guest will include the following:

5-6 adults
1 two year old
1 three year old
1 four year old
2 five year olds
1 eight year old
1 11 year old

Any suggestions?

3. Posh - And sticking to the celebrating, did I ever tell you how we celebrated New Year's Eve? Well, my totally awesome little sister, who just happens to be the Hotel Manager of the Baltimore Tremont Plaza, put J, the girls and me up in the W.C. Smith Suite.

Talk about FANTASTIC. Here's the a description of the room:

A spacious two-bedroom Suite with over 1,400 square feet of superior comfort, including one king bedroom, one queen bedroom, two and a half full baths, and a spacious open living, dining, and entertaining area.

Yeah, it was pretty much amazing. The room included a sauna, exercise room, built in speakers and iPod docks, a television over the bathtub, and heated bathroom floors.

We were totally spoiled. Just take a guess at the per night rate ...

$1500.

Sheer lunacy. (Thank God I didn't have to pay it.)

what happened to relaxing?

Back a zillion years ago, when J and I didn't have children, we used to spend the weekends relaxing. I distinctly remember Sundays where we never got out of our pajamas. Eight years and three kids later, well, that doesn't really happen anymore. Instead, our weekends are spent rushing from one activity to the next. And this weekend was no exception.

I, being the thoughtful and loving wife that I am, made sure that my long run was completed on Saturday, letting J sleep in on Father's Day. So, at 5:51 a.m., I arrived at G's for a 10 miler with a group of runners who are much faster than we are. It was a great run (GI issues aside) with some great company. I'm really looking forward to the next few months of training with them.

After the run (and my attempt to rectify my GI issues), I headed home to get Dizzle and Doodle ready for their dress rehearsal for ballet. Aren't they cute?

In between dance numbers, I got a call from Shelly, who was in town racing the XTERRA 21K.

I called her back when we got home from rehearsal and made plans to meet for lunch. So, J, the girls and I met up with Shelly and her crew at Baker's Crust followed by a visit to a local running store. We had a great time. Shelly and her family were super nice. Our kids got along.

It was pretty much the perfect meet up (and I am really hoping we can get everyone together again).

After lunch, we rushed home and got ready for the recital. The girls were adorable and hysterical. Dizzle could not have been more expressive up on stage and Doodle, well, Doodle is a character. Instead of dancing next to her prop (a rubber duck), she proceeded to stomp on it. Needless to say, I was laughing the entire time. I cannot wait until next year.

Then on Sunday, J slept in and the girls and I made him breakfast in bed. J got up and headed out for his long run (he's training for the Richmond Half Marathon) and I played games with the girls and my sister, Angie Pants, who surprised us with a visit. In the afternoon, we attended Dizzle's BFF's 5th birthday party at a minor league baseball game. It was such a great party and Dizzle and Doodle were having a blast, but Dilly was in TOTAL MELTDOWN MODE. It was in the upper 90's and she did not want to be held by us. At one point, she choked on her drink and spit it on the back of the person in front of us and then a few minutes later, she kicked that same person in the shoulder. It was time to leave. We had made it through the party (the hour and a half before the game) and one inning. Dizzle was able to stay with another family, but the rest of us headed home. I don't think we will be headed back to another game anytime soon. Well, maybe J and I will, but only if someone is volunteering to babysit. Wait. You know, if you're volunteering to babysit, I'm not going to a baseball game. I'm going to go somewhere and sleep. Like, I did before I had kids and weekends were relaxing. I'm just saying.

when sisters attack ...

This is what happens when I leave the room for five minutes ...

Imagine what they could do with an hour ...

behind closed doors ...

For most of their lives, Dizzle and Doodle have shared a bedroom. I don't quite remember why they first started sharing a room, but when we moved into our current home last year, each girl got her own room. But, a few months later, they were BEGGING to share a room again. So, like any sensible mother (who wants a dedicated guest room), I moved a whole mess of furniture to make it happen. And things were good. The girls were getting along. I always had a place for visitors. It worked.

Things have changed in the last month or so. Dizzle and Doodle are CONSTANTLY fighting. Dizzle starts with the teasing and it usually ends with Doodle getting physical. And I.AM.SICK.OF.IT. So, in an effort to make the start and end of our day less stressful, I split the girls up. Dizzle would remain in the room they were sharing, and Doodle would return to her old room (formerly known as my guest room).

As expected in my house, the Dizzle and Doodle spent yesterday bickering. I just kept thinking, "I definitely made the right choice splitting them up." Then just when I couldn't take their behavior anymore, J walked in the door. And suddenly my girls were best friends (maybe they are bi-polar). They were goofing around in the bathtub. Jumping on Doodle's bed. Laughing uncontrollably. When I told them it was time for bed and to say good night to each other, I was instantly hit with how close they are. Dizzle turned to Doodle and said, "Let's do a Bouncing Belly Jack!"

J and I looked at each other puzzled. When we looked back at the girls, they had both lifted their shirts and were belly bumping. It was hysterical. And instantly made me wonder what else they come up with when we close their bedroom door every night ...