got milk?

Apparently, the humor has returned full force our household, thanks to Dizzle, of course.

Upon our return home from the hospital, the topic of feeding Dilly came up. So, being the fantastic mother that I am, I attempted to simplify the process of breastfeeding so that a three-year old could understand (and not question) how her baby sister was going to be nourished. Here's how it went down:

Me: I am going to go feed Dilly.

Dizzle: How is she going to get the milk?

Me: Mommy is going to give it to her.

Dizzle: Oh. From where?

Me: Well, the milk come out of Mommy's boobies.

Dizzle: Can I watch?

Me: Um, sure. But there isn't really anything to see.

Dizzle: Oh, OK. Well, when can I get milk in my boobies? You know I have little boobies ....

Me: (laughter) Not for a very long time ...

See? I told you we'd find our funny bone again.

Dilly is here!!

Our newest addition!

Wednesday, January 28, 2009 @ 4:32 p.m.
6 lbs, 14 oz of absolute cuteness!

our last weekend as four ...

So, unless you are entirely oblivious, you know that Dilly will be here in three days. Seriously, three days. That's only 72 more hours of life as we know it. An incredibly small amount of time when you think about it. Right now, we are comfortable. We know our routine and things tend to flow smoothly (aside from the drama-queen tantrums the girls like to throw). But in the blink of an eye, that will all be over.

Last go-round, I made a relatively easy transition. Dizzle was on a set schedule and I forced Doodle to get in line with it. Plus, it probably didn't hurt that Dizzle ignored Doodle for the first few months or so. No major jealousy or upheaval. And aside from the non-stop feedings and sleepless nights, things remained pretty much the same around here (I know I should stop bragging).

In my wildest dreams, the same thing is going to happen this time. We are all going to wake up on our first morning home and life will carry on as we know it (just slightly louder). Dizzle and Doodle will entirely adhere to their schedule and I will seamlessly blend Dilly into our family. Then, after an easy first two weeks, we will move into the new house and that won't disrupt us either. Piece of cake, right?

It's a nice dream, but I'm a realist. I know that's not going to happen. I know we are going to have to adjust and things probably won't be as perfect as I would like to imagine. Someone is going to feel ousted, someone is going to take priority and someone is going to have to wait. And last time I checked, kids don't like to wait for anything.

But for now, I am just enjoying our last weekend as a family of four. We are living our lives as usual, but I am doing my best to take it all in. In the last two days, I have becoming glaringly aware that Dizzle is about to grow up in a big way. I already expect a lot from her (as most parents do of their oldest), but I know that in no time those expectations are going to grow exponentially. I'm pretty sure that she's about to become even more self-sufficient. A crazy thing to expect from a three-year old.

At the same time, I am relishing in the fact that for a few more hours I can look at Doodle and see a baby, because even though she won't be any different three days from now, I know I will never see her the same way again. Or any of us for that matter ...

mommy-free mornings ...

This morning on my run, I casually mentioned to the girls (my friends, not my children) how I have presented my weekly long runs as "Daddy and the girls" time to J. And amazingly, he has completely bought in.

Every week while I am out pounding the pavement, J and the girls spend the morning snuggling in their pajamas, watching television and making pancakes. And when I get home, I am usually greeted by a cold breakfast, big smiles and Dizzle telling me, "Mommy, go take a shower. You're stinky!" (I'm pretty much convinced that they don't miss me in the least).

Upon returning today, I was presented with the perfect example as to why these mommy-free mornings are a fantastic arrangement for everyone involved. When I walked into the house I found the three of them, still in their pajamas, lying on the floor, tucked under a blanket watching Dumbo. It was absolutely adorable.

And in that moment, I really grasped why these few hours are so important to all of us. For me it's obvious, I get some well-deserved me time where I can catch up with my friends and leave my motherly responsibilities behind.

So what's in it for the girls? Well, Dizzle and Doodle get to bond with their Dad without my nagging and structure. J is a big softy when it comes to his little princesses and when I am gone they can pretty much get away with murder.

And J? Other than getting some alone time with his babies, for a few hours he gets to parent the way he wants to (without my criticism).

Can you imagine a better situation?

we used to be funny ...

Once upon a time, funny things happened in our house. So funny, in fact, that at times I thought I might pee my pants. But that was long ago. Before getting ready to move. Before the endless cardboard boxes. Before Dizzle broke her arm (that's right, it was broken after all). Before I woke up and realized that Dilly is scheduled to be in here in 12 days. That's right. 12 days.

To say we've been a little occupied recently would be an understatement. In fact, I'm pretty sure that all of this craziness has led me to stop seeing the humor in our everyday lives, which is sad, because my kids really do some hysterical things. I just haven't taken the time to notice or recap them for the for the entire world to take part in either.

I promise one day we will return to our former glory. And you? Well, you will be on the floor laughing so hard you can't breathe. Just as soon as we finish packing. And unpacking. And have a baby. And figure out a schedule with three kids under four. And I eat a full meal without interruption. Oh, wait. That's never going to happen ...

Dizzle. In a sling.

,
Dizzle is hurt. The most hurt she has been in her entire life (which doesn't really say much, since she's only three, but still). Anyway, my little babycakes is currently sporting a bright pink sling on her left arm to support her sprained elbow. (The best part is that her "sling" is really just a scarf, since we couldn't find a child-sized sling ANYWHERE! And I'm pretty sure that when other people look at her they are thinking, "Look at the cute little girl with her arm in a sling, obviously for a fake injury." Listen, people. It's not fake. Stop giving her that "isn't that cute" look!)

Oh, where was I? So, she has a sprained elbow. At least that's what the doctor's are saying. Me? I'm not 100% convinced that it's only sprained. (Apparently, x-rays for elbows are hard to read, especially on little kids, especially when there is swelling ... so basically we're three-for-three.)

So, how did she get this sprained elbow? Well, long story short. She fell off a cargo net and landed on her elbow. And rather than cry about it (Mama didn't raise no wimp), she continued to take part in her gymnastics class, all while clinching her arm. Finally, after a good 10 minutes or so, she was in enough pain to call it quits (right before her favorite part of class). BIG RED FLAG.

And although she still hadn't shed a tear, I knew this wasn't something she was just going to shake off. So, we tried to limit her movement as much as possible and headed off to the pediatrician's office. Who sent her for x-rays, which like I said, came back clear. Maybe.

So, it's a week of ice, Motrin and the pink sling (if you happen to have or see a child's sling, let me know). And if the swelling hasn't gone down and/or she hasn't regained her range of motion by the end of the week, it's back for round two of x-rays.

But at least she's in good spirits, often telling me, "It still hurts, Mom. But, that's OK, I'll just use the other arm."

That's right, baby. Work with what you got!

three weeks to go ...

So, I just got back from my 36 week checkup and drum roll please ... I am almost one centimeter dilated. Apparently, my fear that I have been running mile after mile with a baby who was mere moments away from falling out, was completely unfounded. In fact, my OB told me that I have an "iron fortress up there."

Interesting. I never really thought about my cervix in that light before. But, I guess she's right. If all of this running isn't really getting things going, then nothing will.

Nothing except that impeding induction that's circled on our calendar. That's right. We have officially picked the day of Dilly's arrival. January 28th. And as long as there aren't any last minute switcheroos or an early failure of "the fortress" we are a go, exactly three weeks from today. Holy crap ...

my last pre-dilly race ...

So, I did it. Totally against J's wishes, I ran a 10K today (a very hilly 10K, might I add). My last pre-dilly race. And now I am beyond sore. My legs hurt. My butt hurts. Even my biceps hurt. But I finished (in 1:04:51). And I actually beat 37 people. 37 people who are probably really embarrassed that a 35 week pregnant woman crossed that line first.

Oh, and did I mention I finished 5th overall in the Athena division? In a super hot cheetah skirt? Well, I did.

Finally, all this extra weight I am carrying around is paying off.