Uggggg.

I wish I had time to write about Ells b-day part deux. Or taking PG to the Avengers in his Ironman costume.  Or our trip to LA. Or anything really. But instead I got, what my dr. is quite certain is....food poisoning. Which involved the children only getting mildly sick, for like.....a half a day, and me being the sickest I've ever been. EVER. And then having to go to the hospital for fluids because "girrrrrl be trippin" due to dehydration, then having whatever is plaguing me go on.......for 5 days. Thank the heavens for Zofran and babysitters (due to my husband being across the globe). Seriously, bless you kind souls.

Anywho. Updates will resume shortly.

Oh and the AC died the other day....it was 90 out. Right in the middle of all the hoopla. Which involves things like babies waking up at 6am drenched in sweat and moving kid's beds to the basement. No biggie when you're running on Powerade and delirium. But nothin' I can't handle without a slight mental breakdown. Right? Right.

Onward and upward folks. Onward and upward.

the Lou is TWO (part 1)

Holy moses. This child is two. I can't even believe it. Dave was out of town for her actual special day AND Mother's Day (double fail). So we celebrated both in one day before he left. It was fun - but exhausting. We went to Farm Country at Thanksgiving Point. And we learned a few things - such as Ells, hates anything equine. She wouldn't even look at the pony foal. IT'S A BABY PONY. Does anything get any tinier....or cuter? She even bawled on the wagon ride. Sheesh.

Apparently she also hates birthday candles....interesting and hilarious at the same time. 

Way to save the day PG. 

Dave insisted on a nice dinner out. 

This is what "nice" usually means with the kids. 

Sigh. We miss you babe. 

Happy birthday to Little Lou! And Happy Mother's Day to all of you moms!

this confuses me.....

....on so many levels.

Who.....I mean.....what? Yup. So confused.

The mojo is gone.

I have what I like to call "pregnancy intuition". I'm very in tune with myself, the growing baby, what they may or may not need for/during/after the birth....so on and so forth. A few examples:

• When the technician told me PG was a girl, I was all "Yeah, that's wrong, it's a boy." and I made her recheck a few times. 
• Another example: I was adamant that I deliver PG in a hospital that had an excellent NICU. Good thing.....
• I knew 100% Ells was a girl around 10 weeks. Dave didn't believe me. HA! Bwahaha. Silly Dave. The technician was on her game that time though. Lucky for her....

Note: It's not "mother's intuition" by any means. My brain seems to shut down the moment the baby is delivered. It slowly reignites over the passing months...slowly, so slowly.  It's similar to a condition I used to suffer from during school. Dave referred to it as "summer stupidity". As soon as school was out for the summer I'd forget words like "seat belt" and "refrigerator" and would have to rely on elaborate hand gestures to communicate.

Me: "You know that thing, motioning across my body, that straps you in a car....."
Dave: "Uh, a seat belt?"
Me: "Yeah! Put it on!"

I fear motherhood is a permanent state of "summer stupidity". I digress.

Anywho - apparently, my pregnancy intuition is off (what do I blame? Pregnancy. HA.) because I was 100% sure #3 was a boy. In fact, I asked the technician if she could check again....twice. She asked, "do you want a boy?" I replied, "I don't care, I have one of each, I was just sure it was a boy."

Whelp #3 is indeed a GIRL. And instead of showing you the ultrasound evidence (because that's weird people...it is),  here is a pic of her cute profile sucking away on her thumb. Oh and the cardiologist said her heart is good to go.

So here's to sisters (I don't have any, so good luck girls). It's going to be a pleasant 18 years me thinks, without a lick of drama. Because that's what sisters are all about.

on the Hunger Games.

No, I haven't read the books. No, I didn't wait in line to get into the midnight showing. Although I did have the privilege of seeing it with some choice ladies while I was in Boise. So that made the experience all the better.

Anywho. I loved it. I had no idea what to expect. And after I watched it, I began to think (as I'm sure many of you did) - what would I do in the situation Ms. Katniss found herself in?

A few observations:

• I wouldn't last 30 seconds.
• I'd step right off that pedestal before the countdown ended. Getting mowed down sounds way better than being hunted and slashed/choked/beaten/arrowed to death. Or succumbing to the elements.
• Or I'd go find me some of those sweet berries. Night night y'all. See you on the other side.

After I saw it a second time, this time with Dave, the following conversation took place.

• Me: "You liked it, didn't you?"
• Dave: "Totally. I want to see it again."
• Me: "You know you'd win. You'd win the whole freaking thing."
• Dave: "I dunno, I'm pretty out of shape (as he smiles and pats his belly)."
• Me: "Dave - it's 2 tributes between the ages of 12 and 18 per district. Not random 30 somethings."
• Dave: "Oh, true. Well in that case, 17 year old Dave would have totally won. 17 year old Dave could run a 4 minute mile and could stay awake for days."
• Me: "Yeah, 17 year old Sarah could run a......8 minute mile, and needed a daily nap. Yup. Even 17 year old Sarah would have been screwed."
• Dave: "Sorry babe."
• Me: "Wow."

Also there were 2 tweens sitting next to me in the theater. Who A). Literally had heart attacks when the preview for whatever Twilight movie is coming out come on. So, I guess those people really do exist. And B). Every time someone in the Hunger Games was killed they were like "Awww", and I was all "Uh, you do know what has to happen before the movie is over right? Like, 22 more people have to die. Buckle up friends." Sheesh.

EASTER...robot.

Dave and I are still deathly ill. But come hell or high water, we are going to church in matching outfits, you hear me! And you're going to like it.

And now - a montage, with the best robot you've ever seen at the end.

Bowties. They have been and always will be awesome.

Dave took the pics, so please excuse Ell's crazy hair and lack of ruffly socks and white Mary Janes. They are there, promise.

I've been trying for years to teach Pres "the robot". Looks like I'm finally successful.

And I can't think of a more appropriate occasion to bust it out than Easter.

We've dressed, churched, pictured, brunched, Easter Bunny-ed, and napped. Now who is going to make Easter dinner? Who I ask you? Because this mom is spent.

lessons learned.

• Sweet mercy - it's April 6th? Can someone please come and do my taxes? And by "do" I mean gather the appropriate documents and take them to my accountant. Please and thank you.
• So what exactly did the leprechaun bring PG at preschool. GUM. FREAKING GUM.
• The time has come (and maybe it lapsed a loooooong time ago) where I cannot go out in public without some form of makeup. So long youth. Hello "Sure, you can call me ma'am...I guess "
• WALKING DEAD. I'm sad we're going to have to be apart for so long.
• "I'm Sarah. My 'cool trick' is watching Grey's Anatomy during nap time". You hear me DJ Lance? I'm a shoe in. SHOE IN.
• No Dave, I will not make you a turkey in addition to the Easter ham that the rest of us are eating.....Yes, I know my mom does that for you every year, but she's not here. MOTHER YOU'RE KILLING ME.
• Mega cold of death is on it's way out....or so I've told myself in order to keep my sanity.