relaxing

another monday. i always have such high hopes for the weekend and then it comes and goes in the blink of an eye. maybe it's that "time flies when you are having fun" BS. who knows. anyway, this weekend was interesting, to say the least. butch's college roommate blew into town on saturday morning with his 3 year old. they were set to arrive at 8am...which, to anyone without kids, sounds absurd. to anyone with kids, 8am is, like, mid morning. i forget what it's like to sleep past 7am, and if i actually had the chance to do it...i probably wouldn't be able to. "sleeping in" is a thing of the past. so is "relaxing" on the weekend. on friday, the janitor at my school and i were having a conversation (he also has two kids) and he said, "so you don't get to sleep in anymore on the weekends, eh?" i laughed and said, "no. not at all." he then went on..."you have two little alarm clocks now." yes. two little alarm clocks that poop their pants and drive me crazy. he said, "no worries...me too." kids are a pain in the ass for all parents, doesn't matter who you are.

so the guys decided to take the two older kids to the aquarium. i was a little apprehensive at first, because when those two numb nuts (my husband and friend, respectively) are together, they revert  back to their college days. guys are awesome in that way. they both act like they have no responsibilities or cares in the world when they are around each other. this is no bueno when dealing with a 2 year old and a 3 year old. anyways, they headed out the door and i thought about heading to church to say a prayer for the two children. (amen.) i didn't hear anything all morning, but when they came home...butch looked like he was involved in a war, rather than a day trip to see some fish. he said, "let me tell YOU. (arms flailing) that was a LOT of work and a LOT OF walking. a LOT, trish." (i laughed.) i was hanging out with the chubby baby all morning and forgot how easy it was to have just one kid, opposed to two. (cake.) he said, "wanna hear the best part?! we asked the kids what their favorite part was and they said...THE SAND BOX. the friggen sand box!" he went on..."we saw fish, dolphins,  sting rays....and A GREAT WHITE SHARK. but they liked the sandbox the best?!" (he was pissed.) kids are awesome. (ella also enjoyed the rotating door in one of the exhibits...this also set butch off. door > shark.)

so later that night, i took the wheel and gave them the go ahead to go out. however, i would not allow either of them to operate any vehicles so they had to walk to the local bar. (walking is even a little scary when it comes to these two and alcohol.) we bunked the two little girls together and they were yammering on like little nancy's for hours. i kept going over and telling them to lay down and be quiet and i had a flashback of my own mother interrupting a birthday sleep over of mine. she was (very) pregnant with my brother (who is 11 years younger than me) at the time and she waddled down the steps and told us to quiet down. i yelled, "IT AIN'T OVER 'TIL THE FAT LADY SINGS!" my girlfriends found this highly amusing (giggles galore), my mother did not. she shook her head and walked back up stairs. (no worries, payback is imminent with my own two.) they were both up really late, and i knew damn well that they were going to both be a hot mess in the morning. i do know one thing for sure about my children...they need their sleep. if ella gets over tired, she turns into a complete raging asshole. she hates herself, hates her life...and wants everyone else to pay for her sleepiness. (well, we did.)

the next morning, she woke up rather salty. i could tell she was in no mood...for anything. however, the baby slept all night...so she was smiles and sunshine. (and shitty drawers.) i got ella out of her crib and we went downstairs. we (the two numb nuts and i) decided to take the kids to the nearby beach to play in the sand. (hell, if the sandbox was a hit..this should've been the best thing ever.) we loaded them all into the wagon and when i went to take a picture, ella put up her hand, carrie ducked down, and ella's friend hid behind her hair. (see below, not lying.) i should've known this was an omen. we started walking, butch was pulling the wagon and we weren't even off of our street when ella started crying. crying because her nose was running and she had "boogies". (my have boogies, my have boogies, my have boogies...times 323) i didn't have a tissue, so i used...my hand. (motherhood is glamorous.) she didn't stop her nonsense, so then butch ended up using...his shirt. (sanitary.) we were trying to ignore her, but she just kept getting louder and louder...sending carrie into a fit of fury and panic. sympathy cries erupted out of her as well. so our two kids are howling to beat the band...and the 3 year old is looking at them like we just sprung them out of an insane asylum. (they were indeed acting crazy.)

smile! (or not...)

instead of aborting the mission...we walked on. when we got to the beach, things calmed down a bit...until ella's pants got wet, along with her shirt, and then she just decided that she should be naked. (oh, good.) after she was naked, by her own hand...she got cold. when she got cold, the crying started again...and then more boogies. (vicious cycle, here.) carrie had eaten about 4 fistfuls of sand and also was covered from head to toe in grainy goodness. she started crying when ella did, so now these two were causing a full blown scene. i stood up and said, "let's get outta here." butch agreed, but his college roomie decided to stay with his little one and play some more. (i don't blame him.) we were walking back, with our screaming cargo, and butch picked up a pine cone for ella. she made a face and said, "i not want dat!" however, 50 more feet into our trek, (in true 2 year old fashion) she "wanted dat pine cone." (sorry, sister.) overtired and ornery, she. went. nuts. (like, apeshit.) 'I WANT DAT PINE CONE! (no.) I WANT DAT PINE CONE! (too bad.) I WANT DAT PINE CONE!" (holy hell.) this went on for the entire rest of the trip...and you better believe we didn't pass one other goddamn pine cone the whole way.

when we got back she calmed down and i made lunch. (and almost took shots of vodka.) i also had to wipe about a gallon of snot off of both of them. ella asked for the pine cone about 7 more times. butch was severely hungover and just stared at me. is this our life? (yes, why yes it is.) right before i laid ella down for her nap...she hugged me and said, "my sorry i was FRYING at the beach...and whining...and FRYING." i told her she should just take a good nap and she'd feel much better afterwards. (she eyeballed me skeptically.) both kids slept most of the afternoon...and so did butch and i. (exhausted.) so when i sat down to lunch with my (single) friend today and she said, "how was your weekend!? relaxing!?" i almost spit out my drink and choked on my apple. instead of going into all this (stated above)...i said, "oh, it was good...butch's college roommate came to town, ella was over tired and total pain in the ass, i didn't sleep much, and we got into a heated almost fist fight about a pine cone. no big deal." (cliff notes version.) she was hysterical. as another week starts, i'm sure the shenanigans will continue. hey...it ain't over 'til the fat lady sings.

daycare

yesterday morning, i spent 4 hours with 4 kids that were all under the age of 4. i think it's safe to say that at about 4 o'clock yesterday i needed about 4 (HUNDRED) glasses of wine. (holy. hell.) quite seriously, my daycare provider is my new hero. i'm not being sarcastic, i'm not joking...she should be wearing a goddamn cape and a shirt with a large S on it when i arrive tomorrow morning. (it would be appropriate.) now i know, i'm a kindergarten teacher...so i spend most of my days with many more than  just 4 children, who are all young as well. should've been easy, right? (WRONG.) school is more structured, the kids are more independent, and they don't all simultaneously start pooping their pants at the same time. (this really happened.)

the suspects: prior to the pandemonium.

my friend needed someone to watch her kids for a few hours in the morning, a favor if you will. i didn't even hesitate and said, "yeah! bring 'em over...the more the merrier!" (i may have had a few beverages before stating this so boldly.) she showed up early saturday morning, a toddler and a baby in tow and we were just finishing up breakfast. she has two boys, a 2 year old and a 1 year old. (almost exactly the same ages as my two chickadees.) so in they came and out she went...and then the fun began. ella started acting like a complete sass pants as soon as they got there. i kid you not, i think she thought our house morphed into a castle and she was now the queen. she started bossin' everyone around, throwing fits, not sharing her toys and just driving me bonkers in general. also, everything i told her to do, she thought it would be awesome to just do the opposite. (i missed the opposite day memo.) she had 4 time outs in about 40 minutes. (and then another one shortly after when she stuck her tongue out and blew raspberries in my face to be funny.)

when things started to get really rowdy in the house...like really loud and obnoxious, butch suddenly started to find things to do outside of the house. (typical man.) all of a sudden, the grass needed to be mowed. he had to run to ace hardware. he needed to clean out ella's sandbox and add fresh sand. like shit that he really didn't have to do, but chose to do so that he could escape the madness. (two can play that game, fool.) while he was outside "mowing the grass", i got the two 2 year olds dressed and sent them both into the backyard to play. i waved at him from the window and he was staring at me. (suckaaa!) meanwhile, i had the two babies inside. neither of them are walking, but they are in the pull up on everything and then topple to the floor and smash your skull stage. (it was really fun.) i gasped about 23 times as they were teetering all over the place. i almost wanted to go out and buy them helmets so that neither of them would get hurt.

fingerprints: inside. dog saliva: outside.

aside from their drunken sailor routine, they both put everything into their mouths. you have to watch them like a hawk so that they don't ingest anything they aren't supposed to. (carrie had an entire pearl necklace in her mouth the other day. no big deal.) babies also don't have good social skills, so at one point one of them picked up a remote and ramshackled the other one over the head with it. (for the love of....) screams galore. and then oh, the sympathy screams from the other one. butch came inside during the middle of this charade, diverted eye contact with me...and walked right back outside. i flipped him the bird behind the babies backs. i walked out to the kitchen, looked out the sliding glass door and saw the 2 year old little boy...PEEING on our grill. pants down, penis out...just goin' to town. i opened the door and yelled to butch, did you tell him to pee there!? he said, "NO! what!? pee where?!" i said, "ON THE GRILL!?" the little boy turned around and sheepishly smiled at me. i couldn't snap a picture fast enough, but i wish i would've. (senior yearbook material.)

queen ella then decided that her and her jolly jester needed to come inside. they joined me, moe and curly in the living room. and then, i kid you not...3 out of the four decided it was a delightful time to take a dump. one kid on the potty, the 2 babies crappin' their diapers. all at the same time. (synchronized shitting.)  i looked at the clock and realized that it was only 9:17am. i also realized that i was in need of a stiff drink. ella (who is still not potty trained) was super interested in what was going on in the bathroom...and her two year old cronie was happy to explain. he was in mid movement and i heard him say, "see, it's tummin' out ella! see it!" i turned around, and ella was leaning over looking at the toddler's tush as he pushed a out a turd. (oh my god.) i exclaimed, "alright, ella let's leave him alone...let's give him some privacy." she screamed, "no!! i watch him poop right now!! i like to watch him poop!" (vodka. now.) aside from the poop, all of them had runny noses...between the 4, they could've filled a swimming pool with their snot. (so gross.)

after the toddlers got done drawing on the bay window with crayons and one of the babies ate a crayon,  they decided that they wanted mac and cheese for lunch. (lunch of children champions.) i whipped out a box of kraft and to the toddlers in that moment, i was martha stewart. they were pumped. butch was now laying comfortably on the couch at this point and he yelled out to the kitchen, "i got that box for TWENTY FIVE CENTS! with a COUPON!" (yeah, yeah.) i was stirring the noodles and nodding at him. (plotting his death.) i then looked down to see that one of the babies threw up on the floor, crawled away...and our dog was licking it up. (i gagged.) lunch went off without a hitch, and the kraft was fit for a queen. ella said, "it is just so good." (oh, i'm glad.) in the next breath she told butch that she was really "franky." (cranky.) repeat this 23x. "i'm franky. so franky. i'm franky." (we get it.) you aren't the only one that is FRANKY.

i took the two boys home around noon. i arrived back to the house...it smelled like one giant asshole and it looked like a lego bomb exploded in every room. suddenly, two children seemed like a breeze. (even if one is a diaper diva and the other eats nonedibles.) i learned a coupla of things yesterday. 1. although i love children, i would not like to run a daycare. 2. we don't pay our sitter near enough for what she does. 3. if i had four children under the age of 4 that were all my own...it's safe to say i'd be in the betty ford clinic by the time they all ended up in kindergarten. so kudos to you daycare providers and moms with multiples. at 4 o'clock yesterday, i raised my glass to you...several times over. shortly after this, i opened my windows to air out my giant asshole of a house and then showered to get all the snot off of me. just another day in paradise.

dessert

i fractured one of my toes monday morning...getting out of the shower. (my godforsaken toe.) it was one of those moments where i did it and it was so painful, it took my breath away. instead of sucking air, i screamed like a girl named nancy and almost collapsed on the floor. (i'm very graceful.) butch was brushing his teeth half asleep and i startled the shit out of him...he then exclaimed in a high pitched voice, "jesus christ, trish, are you alright!?" i'm fine. (just a goddamn idiot.) as if monday isn't bad enough...i started it with a broken toe. (awesome.) i will now be walking like a grandma for the next week...welcome to my early thirties.

i spent the latter part of my twenties pregnant, and the early part of my twenties getting wasted...so i have no idea what my thirties have in store. i do know that i'm excited to see what transpires. kids have made my life crazy. completely crazy. (as stated, many, many times before.) those two little people are by far the best thing that have ever happened to me. i've always loved children, but never knew what it was going to be like to have some of my own. in hindsight, i'm kinda glad that i didn't know. there is no book, no magazine, no article that can explain what an enormous shift your life is going to take when you have kids. the craziness never ends. it is a daily rollercoaster ride of screams and smiles, absurdity and awesomeness, liveliness and lunacy. it's a daily struggle to find balance.

a friend of mine, who came home to my parents with me for my recent race rolled over sunday morning when ella was calling my name at 6:15am and said, "is this a sick joke?!" yes. it is a sick joke...and the joke is on me. (the joke is parenthood.) we had been out really late whoopin' it up...but my two year old didn't know that and quite frankly, she didn't give a rat's behind. all she knew was that "it was light outside" (that's exactly what she said), and it was time to see her mom. (mascara all over my face, included.) i rubbed my eyeballs (realizing i never took out my contacts), tried to wake up and stumbled into her room. she exclaimed, "OH HI MOMMY! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?" well, ella, i'm tired as hell and feel like a truck hit me...but good morning to you too my little lady. mickey mouse and his clubhouse took the wheel for the first hour i was awake, but she didn't seem to mind.

if you would've told me at 21 that's how i would be spending the morning after celebrating 31, i would've told you that you lost your goddamn mind. instead of napping and nursing a hangover, i was singing the hot dog song and holding my kid. i often wonder what my life would be like had i not gotten married and had children at this point. (other people in my situation, i'm sure, have thought about this as well.) i also have single friends who wish they had what i have. (the grass is always greener.) fen spends a lot of time with us (obviously) and she always says, "i don't know how you do it." yet, she still wants children of her own. i don't know how i do it either. all i know is, i have no idea how i got here and take it one day at a time.

i think tragedies like what happened in boston yesterday, remind us of this. remind us to take life one day at a time, because we never know what tomorrow has in store. those people that went to that race had no idea that was going to happen. just like the children in connecticut who went to school that day and never got to come home. you just don't know. life has no guarantees. i think we also have to remember that each of us has struggles, we all have baggage, we all make mistakes...we all are human. for this reason, we also need to remember to help each other out when needed, to be more understanding, to just be kinder to one another. i will never understand tragedies such as the ones i just mentioned, and my faith in humanity waivers every time something like that happens. however, i do believe that good always prevails over evil in the end.

finally, two of the greatest life lessons that i learned thus far...i learned from my grandmother. first of all, whenever i was going through a hard time she would always say, "put on your boots and march." in other words, tie up those laces and keep moving. life goes on and you have to go on as well. i try to remember this when i am going through something difficult. the second lesson was through what she did, rather than what she said. every single time i would have dinner with her, she would always have dessert afterwards. (everytime.) she would also encourage everyone at the table to have dessert as well. put in to words, have your cake and eat it, too! i am a whole different person i was when i was 21. most importantly though, i laugh a lot more and worry a lot less. i do what feels good and try to enjoy each day for what it is. i hope to spend the next year embracing that mentality and also having more dessert...even if it means running a few extra miles to counteract the calories. we are all in this life together, friends...bottoms up!

birthday margarita? yes, please.

race

if you would've told me a coupla years ago that i would actually have fun running...i woulda asked you what you were smoking when you made that statement. but actually, these days...running is fun. also, running a race was one of the most fun times i've had in a while. now i know, it was only a 5K...a little over 3 miles and i run more than 3 miles on a daily basis most days. however, the whole thrill of the starting line, wearing a number, being part of a group with a common goal...and oh, the beer at the end was awesome, too. i drank the purple koolaid, lived to tell the tale, and now i want more. (bring it on.) i hope to do a longer race in the fall, possibly a 10 miler or something of the like. i also have had a half marathon on my bucket list for a while, but holy hell that seems so far. (i think i would see jesus at about mile 11.) puking and passing out during one of those just may happen.

several of my friends decided to do this race with me, one of which being fen. in true fen fashion, she started training the monday before, along with another one of our friends who also started training on that day...by quitting cigarettes and buying a new outfit. her mom went shopping with her and she came out of the dressing room to show her the new running gear. her mom (who is a hilarious lady) asked her to lay down on the floor while dressed in it, so that she had a more accurate picture of what she would look like the day of the race. (i don't care who you are, that's funny.) anyways, my goal was to keep my time under 35 minutes, and i did that. (31 something.) i also smoked fen and the girl with the new outfit by a few minutes. my other friend (the one that has spidery long legs) beat me by a minute...rats! (damn you daddy long legger.) anyways, i achieved a personal goal and didn't puke or pass out...so i will say that's an accomplishment in my book.

after the race, we housed pizza and bloody mary's and then napped for two hours. (it was awesome.) meanwhile, my mom was galavanting around town with ella. (have fun nanny!) i rounded out my weekend by spending saturday night with some of the best people, and then going to a birthday party for a friend's kid this morning. note to self: after a weekend of racing and raising hell...do not go to a child's birthday party as a sundae topper, it will not go well. i picked up fen, who was also invited..and as soon as we got there, i got ella out of the car and she proceeded to trip on the curb, fall, and then scream her head off. (that was fun.) we walked into the party and she was still flowin' tears. (awesome entrance.) there was a sea of little people running around the house, and most of the adults there were people i had been hanging out with the night before. we all looked a little foggy as the mayhem of toddlers and babies unfolded around us. when everyone was singing happy birthday to the birthday boy...i kinda wanted to stab myself in the eye with a nearby fork. the kids had fun though, and that's what matters in the end.

after the party, we said our goodbyes and i strapped ella in the backseat...ready for our venture back to maryland. i had high hopes of her napping most of the way, or watching her portable dvd player. my high hopes were smashed when she had several crying jags throughout the trip, said "my hungry" about 32 times, complained that she wanted to go back to my parents house, and was generally just overtired and ornery. at one point she was crying for no apparent reason and i yelled, "do you want me to pull this car over and give you something to cry about!?!" (oh my god, i'm turning into my mother.) when it came out of my mouth, i almost gasped immediately afterward. (i hated when my parents said stuff like this to me as a kid.) she said, "nooooo, i just tant stop FRYING. I JUST CAN'T STOP FRYING!" i told her that pretty soon mommy was going to be FRYING in the front seat if she didn't get it together. we left at approximately 1:30pm (normal nap time), she fell asleep at approximately 3:41pm, we pulled into the driveway at 3:52pm. (awesome timing, ella. just awesome.)

when i got home, butch was feeding carrie (no bib) and she was covered in food. she just smiled and cooed at me like it was the best day of her life...crackers smashed in her hair and crumbs covering her cotton onesie. she also had something dried on the end of her nose. he looked tired, but said it "wasn't that bad" taking care of one kid. (we decided to divide and conquer this weekend...he stayed in md, i went to pa. one kid each.) however, later in the evening i stated that i really didn't want to go back to work tomorrow (ugh. sunday blues.)...he exclaimed, "i do!! get me outta this house!" (oh my.)  sometimes going to work is easier, especially when dealing with an overtired two year old. (she took me to the edge of reason in the car.) so here i sit, writing about my weekend and wishing it wasn't over. the race was epic fun and i hope to do another one very soon...however, traveling solo in the car with an over tired two year old is something i definitely hope i don't have to do anytime in the near future. tonight right after both kids were in bed and quiet, i took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment. (bedtime is a sweet time.) on to another day, another week of craziness...hoping that no self inflicted wounds are created by nearby forks in the meantime.

oscar

so shortly after i posted my last story, my husband started spewing liquids out of both ends. (violently.) while this was going on, i was feeding the kids, getting them ready for bed...and listening to what sounded like something from the exorcist going on in the bathroom. he was being really loud and obnoxious about it, to the point where i went up there and said..."i know you don't feel well, but you need to calm the hell down. you are scaring ella." he proceeded to vomit again, even louder. i felt bad for him, but there was really nothing i could do to help him. i had a similar bug last week, and ella had it as well...you just have to let it run it's course. so i put the kids down for bed, poured myself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch. during this time, he was still serenading me with explosions from the upstairs bathroom. (gross.) he also kept coming downstairs and laying on the couch, asking me to look up remedies on the internet, telling me he was cold, moaning, shaking...being a total man about the whole thing. (men.)

as i looked over my laptop at him on the opposite couch, i thought about mentioning something about the fact that i fired both of our kids out of my lady parts...amongst other sicknesses i've had and just dealt with, but i didn't want to push my luck. he started breathing really labored and was being HIGHLY dramatic, telling me his hands were going numb and stuff. he was in the fetal position. it got to a point where i didn't know if he was just being dramatic, or if he actually was having organ failure. he coulda won an academy award for his performance. i put down my wine glass and started to get a little scared. i mean, what if he was actually dying...and i am laughing (hysterically) on the inside about it. i was texting one of my (funny) friends and she asked me if he had a bowl of e. coli for dinner? (i laughed.) finally, he stood up and said..."CALL 911." (holy shit and shinola.) "are you serious?" he moaned, "i never felt like this in my liiiiiiifffeeee....something is wronnngggg." (oh my god.) so i called a friend, she came over to sit with the kids and i took him to the ER. (praise jesus for friends like this.)

it was about 10pm and we rolled up to the hospital. the waiting room was packed with weird people. i also love that the nurses in the ER don't deal with any bullshit. (they can't i guess.) they were asking warren questions and he was all whiny and moany with them, but they weren't buying it. he cried to the one (large) nurse, "i can't feel my haaaaands." she just said, "yeah, okay." and kept going about her business. (this made me want to bust out laughing, but i didn't.) they asked him, on a scale of 1 to 10...how bad was his pain? now for me...a 1 would be stepping on a lego in the middle of the night while walking into ella's room in the dark. a 10 would be equivalent to a kevin ware broken bone basketball injury. however, without missing a beat...butch moaned, "A TENNNNN. IT'S A TEN!!!" (yeah right.) two kids, outta my vagina...and it wasn't even a 10. (knock it off.) i sat quietly, biting my lip.

when they got us back into another room, butch then unleashed a whole puke bag full of his insides in front of two nurses, a doctor...and a room full of people. (people were staring, and i bet they thought he was drunk...he had that look about him.) again, he was overly dramatic about it and was making crazy noises. i was just sitting there staring at him and at everyone staring at me. the one (young, pretty) nurse looked at me...and i rolled my eyes. she bit her lip and tried not to lose it. she then said, "puking is the worst." i agreed. puking is the worst, but there is no need for the added shenanigans. then she hooked him up to an IV to give him fluids and something for the nausea. they wheeled him back to another room with a bed and hooked him up to monitors. i was no longer worried at this point, because no one else seemed worried. he kept asking me to do shit for him...and i was trying really hard to be supportive. he asked him to cover him up with blankets. (i did.) he asked me to fix the pillow behind his head. (i did.) he asked me to...tie his shoe. (MOTHER OF GOD.) i did.

at the end of all this a few hours later, he started to feel better...the vomiting stopped and they established that this was just a GI bug that has been going around. also, that he was dehydrated due to several nights of boozin' with my brother. it was 12:15am that we walked out of there. there were even more weird people in the waiting room when we left. no worries, though, we fit right in...it was at this point i realized that his (pajama) pants were inside out and his pockets were flapping in the breeze. (awesome.) i was half asleep and as we made our way back to our house...he said, "oh no. OH NO!" i said, "oh my god, what NOW!?" he yelped, "it's gonna come out!!!" he was clenching his ass. (jesus h. christ.) i said, "butch, if you shit your pants in this car, i will never be able to look at you with a straight face again. please do not shit your own pants. right now. in this car." he laughed...and thank god did not poop in his pajama pants. after we got home, our kids didn't sleep well either, so i didn't really sleep at all last night. (zombie mode today.) so much for april being germ free...day 1, a trip to the ER. we are off to a stellar start. on a positive note, he has informed me that he has lost 6 pounds. now we will both look amazing on the red carpet next year at the oscars....when he wins the academy award for best actor.

pounds

it's april. another month has passed already. why is it when you are a kid, time goes so slow...and then when you are an adult it seriously flies? now that i have kids, it seems to be going even faster. (like out of control fast.) in the car today, ella said, "i just want to be bigger." i asked her why and she said, "i just wanna be 3, otay?" i stopped at a red light, turned around and said, "i am going to be 31 this month, and i want to be 3 instead." she replied, "SILLY MOMMY!" (slow down, time!) anyway, i'm kinda glad that march is over...it was one hell of a month healthwise at our house. we were all sick at some point, and that was not enjoyable. (screw you, sickness.) that being said, i still made time to work out and was still able to stick to eating healthy. at the end of month three, i am down 15 lbs. (woot, woot.) warren, on the other hand is toppin' the scales and is up about 10 lbs. he thinks this is very funny. (as do i.) 

i went to the mall with ella today and breezed by the motherhood (maternity wear) store...i kid you not, i got the heebie jeebies. (i shuttered a little bit on the inside.) being pregnant was no picnic and anyone that tells you it is...is a liar. i mean, my god...you are HOUSING a human being. there is another human living. inside. of. you. you gain mass amounts of weight, your body does weird things. it's definitely a miracle...and it's also a miracle i didn't physically assault someone during either pregancy. i was happy to not be shopping at that store, and went on to another store that does not sell elastic waistband pants or shirts that could be used as tents. trying on pants was fun, and ella was happy to weigh in with her opinion. one (pink) pair of pants i tried on, she made a crazy face and said, "mommy, they weird." i laughed like a fool. my 2 year old just told me my pants were weird. (next!) i bought a pair of (non weird) pants, in a size that i haven't worn since...middle school. (i'm serious.) i assure you i am not making this up or joking. i was pretty pumped.

this month is sure to be a challenge for a buncha reasons. first of all, i am off all this week and i am heading to my hometown for a few days with the kids. (butch works.) my hometown is not good for the liver or the waistline. this italian joint valenti's could easily help me pack on 5 pounds in 3 days. (it's so damn good.) the following weekend, we will be heading up there again for my first 5K (excited!) and my birthday. i have been pregnant or had an infant the past 3 birthdays. (i expect to vomit for this one. big plans.) however, hopefully i can keep my act together the rest of the month so that i don't blow all the hard work i've put in the past coupla months. people have said, "i don't know how you have time to work out!?" (umm...i make time, dummies.) i have to say that i am excited for april...the warmer weather alone makes me happy. welcome spring, baseball, flipflops, tanktops, sunshine...and smaller pants. high fives and fist pounds all around.

month 3: done. 

sidebar: butch was pissed he had to get off the couch to take this picture. no joke.