I should be reading right now

 On Saturday afternoon, we had a 5K at the kids' school that raised over $4000 for the PTO.  Ben was in charge of the event with Dorothy who is firmly anti-stroller, his megaphone, and a cadre of volunteers, and I ran the race with Cooper in the jogger and Harry and Jack and a couple of their friends slowing me DOWN.

Harry dressed like Richie Tennebaum because that's his personal sense of style.  AWESOME.

 Here's Jack and Harry's friend straggling across the finish line.  Once we crossed our last street and I was sure they knew where school was, I ditched them all and ran the rest with Jack's friend Edie who is a good little runner.  These boys crossed the finish line 15 minutes after us.

 So sweaty and gross.

 Dorothy didn't run, but she loved the snow cone truck at school.

 She also spent some time picking and squishing cherry tomatoes, one of her favorite outdoor activities.

 Saturday night, Ben and I went out for sushi and drinks.

 I had 2 of these pear saketinis.  Then we went to the golf course bar by our house, and I drank 2 MORE martinis and we walked home and I think maybe I was still drunk at 6 the next morning.  I told Dorothy we could not have night-night, which is what she calls nursing, because I was pretty sure I was above the legal limit.  Oops.  But also yum.

 Made a really good chili but measured nothing, so I will never be able to make it again.  Also, see those 4 bottles of wine?  The more kids we bring grocery shopping, the more wine we buy.  Hmmmmm...

 I seriously love these lunch boxes.  They make even crappy half-assed lunches look fancy.  (Tonight I made tiny chocolate chip cookies because we ran out of M&Ms for the treat spot.  And by ran out, I mean I ate all the fucking M&Ms.)

 The other day, Harry's gym class had to run the half-mile.  Last year, Harry "ran" the half-mile in 12 minutes.  He is usually a lazy runner.  So, Ben said he'd give Harry $100 if he ran it in less than 6 minutes.  Harry's time?  4:55.  Which is why he and Jack are playing Disney Infinity 2.0.

 Cooper is really into broad-shouldered robots lately.

 This guy is a rescue bot, but I don;t know if that's a rescue in his chest or what

 SUCH GOOD HELPERS.

 I was walking past Forever 21, and this caught my eye, but I realized right away that if I wore it the irony would be gone gone gone.

Saturday already?

Once again the whole week is GONE.  I haven't been here since Tuesday, and Tuesday was just a blink ago.  We haven't quite figured out our new routine is the problem.  I mean, I hope that's the problem.  Otherwise, we HAVE figured out the new routine, and it's a crazy busy one.

I had really bad PMS two weeks ago, and I needed  chocolate.  Needed it in a really medicinal way.  So, I started eating bags of chocolate chips whenever I wanted and making cookie dough and generally ignoring My Fitness Pal.  And you know what? No difference. The two weeks before that, I was logging in everyday and eating only my 1200 calories and whatever exercise calories I managed to accrue.  And you know what?  NO DIFFERENCE.  SO, I mean, gah.  (The other day I was walking to my parking garage at work, and I literally bumped into a sandwich board that said "WEIGHT WATCHERS MEETS HERE" with a huge arrow.  Maybe it is a sign. I mean, yes, it was actually a sign, but I mean a figurative sign, too.  And no, Weight Watchers doesn't meet in the parking garage-- it's in the basement of the building next door.  And maybe the sign is that I need to stop texting and walking.)

I was looking through old pictures the other day, and can you believe that 2 years ago, I had a baby Dorothy's age (Cooper) and was PREGNANT?  Holy cow.

This is the first time since I have been married that I don't actively want more babies .  Everybody says you can feel when your family is complete, and I so totally get that now.

While Cooper has Little Gym, I sit on the floor outside the gym and build blocks with Dorothy (that girl is so into her Melissa and Doug stacking blocks, which is wonderful because they can be nested and thrown in my world's giantest purse) and watch Cooper through the glass.  He is adorable in class-- very serious and capable and excellent at following directions which surprises me because he is way more ADHD than Harrison who actually HAS a clinical ADHD diagnosis.  I wonder if once his shyness wears off he will be the troublemaker I think he is destined to become.

Anyway, the point is, while I sit there in babyland, there are 4 older moms who are all there watching their youngest kids in class.  Their youngest kids are all about a year or so older than Coop, who just barely made the age requirement for the class (3-5 y/os), and they all seem to be right around 4-5 years older than I am.  They are a different breed than the moms I know who are all still in the thick of it.  They are, as a group, just a bit thinner, better dressed, and more made up.  They always get to class with dry hair and done faces, and when they wear (Lulu) workout gear, they also have that just-did-yoga-glow.  One of them was talking about leaving her kids with friends and grandparents next week because she and her husband are off to Paris.  No one has to rush home for nap screaming along to the radio and wrenching her shoulder to reach behind her and jostle the leg of someone who is almost asleep and who will refuse all naps if she sleeps for just 6 minutes in the car before lunch.

 I just am so excited to be one of those women soon.

Speaking of ADHD, at open house, everyone in Harry's class had these on the back of their desks:

Except for Harry, who lost the head and feet somewhere in his desk and had one that looked like this:

I think I am going to quit my day job and become a baby stylist because I do pretty good work. That's a summer dress with boyfriend jeans.  Whoever made toddler boyfriend jeans is a genius.

 So much good parenting going on here.  He's watching the Cartoon Network, BTW.  So not appropriate.

 Blurry, yes, but she totes looks like Angelica Pickles.

First grade work is very important.

 Took Cooper to Old Navy to pick out a shirt and sweater he will wear in our family picture.  Because I doubt he will actually wear it, so I am not looking to make an investment.

 Do her feet look ginormous in these boots?  They are her size, but they run HUGE, and I am afraid she looks like she has cartoon feet.

Beatrix: An A+ Dog, but I Kind of Maybe Don't Really Like Dogs

Beatrix is a wonderful dog.

She only barks when she has been outside by herself too long.

She has never chewed up anything and all of her puppy chewing needs have been met by raw hides.

She is very good about going outside to go to the bathroom.  She does this really annoying thing where she squeezes out pee in random rooms to mark them sometimes, and we have done our share of rug laundry, but for a puppy, she is remarkably neat.

She has some short hair that sheds but it hasn't been a problem yet.

She stinks, but she likes to be groomed.  She doesn't mind having her teeth brushed.

We gave up on puppy class because our kids have too many activities, but that's OK because she can sit and play fetch and walk generally well on a leash.

 Maxi dresses and skirts, frayed edges on shorts or pants, brightly colored socks on feet, and dish towels drive her insane, and she cannot help but bite the hell out of all of these things.  It's fairly adorable.

She is a big help cleaning up under Dorothy's chair, and she particularly loves Cheerios and oatmeal.

Harry and Jack love to walk her, although we just found out the other day that they hadn't been cleaning up her poop.  THEY ARE NOW.

Ben loves to snuggle with her on the couch after the kids go to bed.

She really is a perfect, wonderful, well behaved little dog.

But you guys?  I don't really like having a dog.  And I say this when it is nice outside, and she can spend her day in the back yard getting tangled in the soccer net and using one of Ben;s stray lawn-mowing Native shoes as a pillow when she sprawls in a sunny spot of the grass.  Because her best quality is that she sleep about 18 to 20 hours a day.  After lunch, she takes a nap at the same time the babies do, and she generally prefers this nap to happen outside on the deck or in the grass. She scarfs her lunch, eats Dorothy's crumbs, and gently knocks on the sliding door with her face until I let her out.  She comes back in a couple of hours and takes another nap in her dog bed until the big kids get home.  Then they walk her around the block and she heads bak into the yard where she sometimes stays until the little kids are in bed.  Usually, she scratches on the door to come in during dinner because there are crumbs to be had.  But she doesn't eat her food in earnest until about 8:30 when she wolfs two bowls in succession and passes out on the ottoman until we go to bed.  Then she sleeps in her house until about 6, and the whole lazy day starts again.

In the morning when she has had her first walk and eaten her breakfast and is playing with the kids and everyone is screaming and balls are flying, I kind of wish I maybe didn't have a dog (even though everyone else is pleased as punch).  And rainy days when she is at loose ends?  KIND OF A PAIN IN MY ASS and prime peeing on the floor days.  I am worried that winter is going to be like one, long rainy day.

In summary:  Beatrix is awesome. The ideal dog, even.  But I don't think I like dogs as much as I used to because even the easiest sweetest best dog (which she is) is still a giant pain in the ass.  But she;s our pain in the ass, and we love her.

(I mean seriously-- sometimes the boys forget to shut the back gate, and she COMES ON THE FRONT PORCH AND WAITS TO BE LET IN.  She is a freakishly wonderful animal.)

Hanging around, waiting for fall

 This morning, Beatrix took a break from being the laziest dog in the world to eat Cooper's sagging birthday balloons whose strings are finally low enough for her to reach.

 But first she had to get them away from Dorothy.

Dorothy might be dressed like a mom in the pick up lane with her cuffed skinny jeans, ballet flats, and peasent top, but she had mad game.  (Not true.  She has no game at all.  She just demands to be hoisted aloft so she can stuff the ball in the net (bup, she says, arms raised imploringly, bup).).

 

Because there is obviously something wrong with us, we let Harrison have a 6-kid slumber party on Friday night for no other reason than he wanted to.  WHAT THE HELL?  WHAT WERE WE THINKING? 

 Despite a rowdy beginning (or maybe because of it), the night was super smooth.  A ton of popcorn and potato chips, some organic juice boxes, a couple of pizzas, and right before bed some fresh hot cookies and milk, 2 80s movie classics-- Space Camp and Back to the Future-- and it was 12:00 MIDNIGHT and lights out.

 They were super territorial about their sleeping spots.

 But you know what was rough?  The next morning. They all woke up just BEFORE 6:00 am and you know what?  they were kind of crabby about it.  They had lots of donuts and video games before their parents cam at 9.  Next time I will make a firm morning plan with an outdoor activity, even if that means build a damn snowman.

Put Dorothy in this get up to annoy Ben and Harry, but the Packers lost, and now they think it is a good luck charm.

 Cooper eating a honeycrisp from the tiny tree in our backyard that produced the 5 best apples I have ever eaten.

 I was desperate this morning because she really wanted "bup" and I was trying to get dressed. This ended wetly, which surprises no one but me.

Baby girls are so damn cute

I mean sure, baby boys are, too. But OMG Dorothy kills me these days with utter adorableness.

(Okay, but then there's this guy, too, who is pretty darn adorable.  He's actually so shy and self-conscious and vulnerably adorable that he makes me almost cry every time he smiles.)

 But Dorothy with balloons is irresistible, too.

 She was saying broon broon, too.

 Her clothes last SO LONG.  The tunic she is wearing was a dress last winter, and her leggings are some she has had since Christmas.  I really enjoy how her clothes can be re-purposed.  Just the addition of a cardigan and some legging and bam!  All her summer clothes are suddenly fall clothes.  And the mileage she is getting out of last year's dresses (they are too cute over skinny jeans) is amazing me.  When boys outgrow their clothes that's it-- the clothes are gone.

 Her rain gear is so cute I wish it rained everyday.

 But not really because the dog is too dumb to not eat my boots the whole time we walk in the rain.  Also, there's the whole WALKING IN THE RAIN part.

 Imagine these almost mother-daughter dresses with matching Minnetonka moccasin booties.  And now imagine our Christmas card.  I have to coordinate the boys, still (including a sweatsuit for Cooper only not a sweatshirt because those are "owie" and "yuck" so maybe a long sleeved t-shirt and track pants?)

Okay, seriously.  I am SO BUSY in every aspect of my life that I should not even be writing this right now, but since I have already posted these content-less pictures, I might as well keep going. You guys, I need some support.  I am getting ready to go on a girls' trip with my favorite internet friends from back in the day in a month.  And by getting ready I mean filling my Xanax prescription (literally.  called my doctor TODAY and got one) and thinking about buying plane tickets because the idea of flying across the country BY MYSELF scares the shit out of me.  Which is why I have procrastinated on the tickets even though we leave in 4 weeks and have had our trip planned for 6 months.  I have sent at least 6 borderline incoherent Facebook messages saying I can't go, but I REALLY WANT TO GO. I am afraid that I am going to buy the tickets (for a million dollars because I waited so long, but that's my damn fault) and then sabotage myself and not get on the plane and somehow blame it all on Ben and freak out big time.  I really don't want to sit at home and miss this great trip, but I cannot visualize myself actually going.  Does that make sense?  I think Amy and Becca and Sarah are tired of hearing me complain and vacillate.  I don't know what I am looking for here.  Support?  A pep talk?  Somebody besides Ben to tell me to quit being such a drama queen snowflake?  I am such a peach.  I bet you want to plan a vacation with me.