Countdown to Disney World

I am not going to say that we are in the process of over packing for vacation, but I will say that we are taking 29 bathing suits with us to the state of Florida.

Also, I need to stop calling it a vacation because Dorothy (who has only 4 teeth) is getting, oh ALL OF THE REST OF THEM, and she is simply HORRIBLE.  It is a trip, not a vacation.

Cooper gets really into clean up.

 Realized that I cannot change the SIZE of my body before it hits the beach on Saturday, but I can change the COLOR, so I donned my smallest bikini and hit the backyard with a book and a blanket.

 Harry joined me.

 Jack did, too.  He asked me why we didn't always "do the tanning."  I said, "Well, it's not really safe.  You can get skin cancer."  He said "Why are we doing this then?  Are you crazy?" and moved to the shade before running into the garage for a huge bottle of sunscreen.

 This box contained all of these snacks, plus some sun screen, plus 5 different types of diapers (Dorothy, Cooper, Cooper nighttime, Dorothy swim, Cooper swim), and 24 organic milk boxes because all 4 kids like to wake up with a glass of milk. We spent around $200 filling it up. AND THEN WE PAID $180 TO SHIP IT TO OUR DISNEY HOTEL.  Definitely the most ridiculous and stupid use of money this week.  And we have bought some stupid and ridiculous shit in the last few days.

 Like today when we decided that Harry, Jack, and Ben needed new shoes and that Harry needed a couple extra pairs of shorts and another swim suit (yes, for real).  And we were in such a hurry to BUY MOAR STUFF that I left the house looking like this: 

Sick Baby

 On Friday, We had a lovely morning.  Everyone woke up too early but I figured bonus!  I could put the babies down for an early nap and sleep for an hour or so myself before Ben came home and I went across the street to volunteer in Harry's class.

I made delicious chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, and all the kids lurved them.

 After the big boys went to school, the babies and I went for a walk and to the park.  Dorothy rode the train like a big girl and was SO HAPPY.

We came home to play and take a shower (me), and things were going SO WELL.  At 10:30, Dorothy took a break from happily playing in our closet where she loves to roll around in a pile of Ben's ties and my scarves and rub her face in my clothes that hang on a low bar and toddled happily to her room where I heard her playing with her musical instruments.

At 10:40, Cooper inquired "Yum yum?  Have?" so I went into the kitchen to turn on the griddle which I ;left out after breakfast because I planned to make us all grilled cheese sandwiches.  I had just turned the dial to 250 degrees and opened the fridge when I heard Dorothy stomping down the hall.  Then she coughed, and it sounded like something spilled.  Then I heard her fall down and bump something-- I assumed her head-- on the floor.  I waited for the scream and went to investigate.  What I saw stopped me in my tracks.

VOMIT EVERYWHERE. 

She puked, slipped in it, banged her head, struggled to her feet, and let loose another tidal wave of bile all over the wall.  IT WAS HORRIFIC.

I took off my clothes (I was wearing a really cute outfit and was fresh from the shower) before I wrapped her in a huge towel and deposited her in a bubble bath.  She played happily with the faucet while I bagged her soiled clothes and cleaned up the hallway.  She was still happy after her bath, so I put her in some jammies and nursed her and put her down for a nap.

She stayed asleep for about 30 minutes giving me enough time to switch the laundry and start on the garbage bag full of rancid clothes and towels, feed and tuck in Cooper, and eat a salad.  Then she started crying, and I found her face down in a puke-covered crib.

For the rest of the afternoon, we cuddled on the couch, me wearing a towel over my yoga pants and bleach stained t-shirt and her sliming all over me every 10 or 20 minutes.  She couldn't keep anything down and was so, so sad.

Sick babies are the SADDEST.  Finally, she feels better today, and I have been encouraging everyone to swap cups and toothbrushes so we get this over with before vacation.  SO MUCH LAUNDRY.

SO SICK.

I got horrifically, violently, stomach-flu-ally ill on my birthday. IT WAS THE WORST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER.

I was at work proctoring an exam for students who need exam accommodations, and I started to feel sea sick looking at my computer.  A few minutes later I realized I was shivering.  A few minutes after THAT my arms started to feel tingly and I had to put my head on the table in front of me.  That's when I dragged myself to the bathroom and stood just inside the door of the biggest stall and stared at the toilet wondering how close to it I could actually let my face get.  I decided NOT VERY, so I hobbled back down the hall to another classroom where one of my TAs was giving her own exam to tell her I needed to leave and to please check on the students down the hall.  I did not call my boss out of a dissertation defense to tell him I had to go home-- BECAUSE DECORUM, OBVS--so I sat shivering in my office with the heat turned up to 85 until the meeting got out.  My appearance horrified him, BTW-- that's how good I looked.

On my drive home, I kept thinking I was going to pass out and I almost called Ben to come get me like 3 times.  Luckily I made it, climbed under my covers, and stayed there for 12 hours, coming out only to vomit.  I could not even sleep-- that's how shitty I felt.  The blankets hurt my skin.  I WAS SO SICK.

Weight loss: be careful what you wish for.

Dorothy's new thing is dress up.  She put on her bonnet and necklace/headband herself.

When I was sick, I could not get up with Dorothy, so Ben went in to her room, and she was like what the fuck man?  This is not how we do things.  He brought his blanket and pillows in there, and she slept with him on the floor.  He said he could not stay in our bedroom because my complaining was keeping him up.

I felt pretty horrible the next day but was well enough to volunteer at the kids' school (YOU'RE WELCOME) and lie on the couch sort of watching the babies.  Cooper can always cheer me up.

Breaking news:  DOROTHY LOVES EGGS.

Ben surprised me with presents I was not expecting, and his parents sent me a Sephora gift card-- my fave,  My parents and my grandma sent me Amazon cards, and I bought a Fuji Instax Mini90, which I have been wanting forever.  It came today-- happy birthday to me!!

Biggest bummer of the whole debacle:  The last thing I really ate was cookie dough and my birthday cookie cake.  And that's what makes me feel sick now.  I CAN'T EAT COOKIE DOUGH OR COOKIES.  Who the hell am I?

Birthday Eve

We are in the thick of birthday season around here: Ben and Dorothy in March, Jack in April, me in May, and Harry in June. Then we catch our breath for a couple of months and celebrate Cooper in September.  (And this will be Cooper's first friend party this year with his sweet little preschool friends-- I mean, I am assuming they will be sweet and little). But first tomorrow!  Tomorrow is my birthday!  Yay! My favorite!

Ben took Harry to his Music Man rehearsal, and I made myself an ugly but hopefully delicious birthday cookie cake.  The boys are very excited to eat it for breakfast, and who can blame them??

I am definitely not expecting any gifts tomorrow because I am getting a 90-minute massage in the morning (a fabulous gift), and we are going on vacation in less than 2 weeks and you would not believe all the clothes I have been buying myself (being too large for all my old summer clothes has some advantages).  But I am expecting a lovely day:  waking up early to work out, eating cookie cake for breakfast with the fam, going to my massage, spending the day at work finishing up my summer class, proctoring an exam, and meeting with the 2014 TAs one more time, coming home to put all the kids to bed, going out with Ben to our favorite birthday bar.  It sounds perfect in theory-- cross your fingers that it;s that good in practice.

I say this every year, but every year it's true:  THIS is the year that I really feel old. 3 dozen years?!  That's a lot of years.  And I have accomplished a lot-- a wonderful marriage, a PhD, 4 gorgeous kids-- but I also feel like I have been blithely squandering my time, figuring I am so young that I have lots of time before I need to focus on any major accomplishments.  So maybe this will be the year that I get serious about getting serious.

36 will be the year I will:

Finally lose 18 pounds (For real-- I mean it this time.  I am on the right track-- tonight I knew I would eat tons of cookie dough and frosting while making my cake, so I skipped dinner.  Erm.  Okay-- for realz I am getting serious about getting in shape).
WRITE A NOVEL (I am not fucking around.  I am going to dedicate AT LEAST 4 hours a week to writing.  I know that's not enough time to write  a whole book, but Ben and I talked about it, and we can't find more time right now, but we are hoping that some will open up once I start ).
Run a race (Shut up-- I am serious.  I do between 3.3 and 3.5 miles a morning in 40 minutes or less, so 3.1 is totally doable).
Perform something somewhere (This one is not as fully formed as the rest, but I am thinking about it).

So there you have it-- remind me on my next birthday eve to check on the status of this list, huh?

Dorothy loves to play dress up:

Mother's Day: Maybe the best one yet (In random picture order thanks a lot, Blogger)

 I slept in a little this morning after realizing that Dorothy was up for the day at 4:47 and handing her to Ben who did a little online teaching in the quiet 90 minutes before everyone else woke up.

Then I ate cookies for breakfast, had a killer workout (shaved 4 minutes off my PR and would have done a 5K in under 30 minutes, which is big for me-- I did MORE than 3.5 miles, but the first 5K was fast), and got ready for fancy brunch.  And I only got myself ready-- and Dorothy at the last second.  Ben did everyone else.

We went downtown for the brunch that has become legendary to the children.  They talk about it all the time and tell me that someday they'll bring their kids.

Dorothy smelled the tulips so aggressively that she kept face planting.  HA!

 All I could do was laugh at her because it was SO CUTE.

 Now THAT is a fucking CORSAGE

 I wish we had taken more pictures before we turned her loose with tons of food.  But here she is still pretty dainty.

 BACON

 Harrison went to the omelet station first thing.  He actually had a whole plan of buffet attack mapped out in advance.

 Jack-- he ate more sausage in one sitting than I thought was possible.

 For awhile all I could do was sit there and hold a glass of water in one hand and a kids' cup of crushed ice in the other.  Erm.

 SO MANY DESSERTS. 

 Seriously.  The sausage.

 She had some strawberry shortcake.

 Also a fan of the dessert selection.

 Smelling the tulips.

 She liked em

 He was a statue

 And then she started to freak out and it was time to go home.

 See?

 LOVE the side eye I am giving the Jack situation

 Cooper picked his nose in 95% of our pictures

 OMG she's so rowdy

 Ben planted his garden today!

 A cute little boy lineup

 Another angle of all Cooper's desserts

 Whipped cream?  Cupcake? Hard to say.

 Walking in with our devices.

 Bloody Marys.  Plural.

 Can you blame me?

 Look at Cooper;s little smushy face.  He appears to be mocking us.

The boys rolled down the Capitol hill for awhile.  Longer than you;d think people would want to roll down a hill.

And then we all took naps and Ben grilled dinner.  The end.