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.

it's time.....

...to let the cat out the bag, I suppose. Aller baby #3 is on it's way September 2012! 15 weeks down...infinity to go.

• Yes. This is why I've been MIA since December.
• Yes. I'm a little terrified. This will mean the "grown ups" are outnumbered.
• Yes. I'm aware I already have 2 children. But I'd say we're on a roll - cause these guys are pretty radical....

Here's to never mentioning the past few months again, and looking forward to what will be the best 2nd trimester any one has ever had. A girl can dream, right?

a good samaritan bought my velveeta.....

Yup. You heard me correctly. I was at the store, and indeed had my purse, but it surely did not have my wallet in it. Of course I realized it after everything was loaded on the belt and my turn was up. Here's the line up....

• 3 cans of chili
• 1 box Veleveeta Cheese
• 1 gallon of Langers apple juice

Disgusting? Yes. I was buying the makings of queso (minus the juice) for my spouse. So don't you dare judge me....judge him. Anyway I asked the cashier if she could hold my items, and I'd quickly run home to get my wallet. (I literally live 2 minutes away from the store). And a sweet older gentleman in front of me insisted on paying for my ghetto purchases.

So thank you kind man - from the bottom of my exhausted, frazzled, sweats wearing heart. Even if it was for Velveeta cheese. I shall surely pass on the good deed. And maybe try and be less scrutinizing about other's disgusting purchases.....maybe.

so what's the protocol if.....

....your 4 year old swallows 20 pieces of gum?

Good hell. Happy Monday.

Before he manned up and volunteered the truth, here are some fibs formulated in his 4 year old brain.

• Ells ate it.
• All of the gum is in the house somewhere, don't worry, we'll find it mom.
• The window opened by itself and it all blew away.

Sheesh. I cannot wait for the excuses of teenage-hood. Can. Not. Wait.