So today was the "fun" run...

...and look what I did!

Y'all know that I am just more naturally inclined to sell baked goods than I am to run 2+ miles, right? So I stuck with what I knew. Steve did what he does best. (Physically exerting himself while making it look easy and enjoyable)

After the fun run (a couple of spouses looked like puking was imminent after all of that "fun"), everyone socialized and bought goodies (maple butter french toast muffins with BACON on top, holy whoa, our FRG leader can BAKE). I had a great time. Mostly because I wasn't forced to run. And also because there was iced coffee. Not gonna lie about my motives there. But I enjoyed getting to meet the new people that Steve is working with.

This was a big money-maker for the FRG's and people were allowed to make a $5 donation to run in jerseys or other non-PT clothes. Obviously, we took full advantage of the $5 and rocked our Auburn-wear. (First game of the season on Saturday! War Eagle!)

It is painfully obvious that we might never take a successful family photo.

After taking a few pictures, Sam had a legitimate meltdown and Molly somehow managed to sleep on the way home despite his erratic screaming and face-slapping. (Yes, he slaps HIMSELF in the face. Like that will somehow anger me. By all means son, slap away!) Despite it only being 9:45 in the morning, I chucked the little monster in bed and he is still sleeping after two and half hours.

Also? Molly slept til 4:57 this morning and around here, that is sleeping in!!! I was so thrilled with her perfect timing. (Was getting up at 5 anyway.) Now I'm hopped up on coffee and am on Cloud 9 with the simultaneous napping that is going on here right now. I feel like I can do anything; grocery shop at the commissary on payday? Clean the house? Do the laundry? Run 2 miles? Ok let's not get overzealous here. I'll probably start with a little nap..

Warning: Chub Overload

Molly, you are officially 5 months old today. I guess that might explain why you were up nonstop since midnight last night. God forbid we don't celebrate properly with a party-all-night-but-not-in-the-crib-with-our-eyes-closed mentality like you do. Seriously, child. You gave me such high hopes with your sleeping patterns as a newborn. Now you're all over the place.

Faker.

Stats-wise, the last time you were "officially" weighed (this past Friday), you clocked in at 19lbs 2oz. Your dad and I started trying to amass some sort of cooler-weather-clothes-collection for you and your brother while we were on vacation and y'all basically wear the same size. (That sound was my jaw hitting the floor because 24-month/2T clothing and YOU ARE ONLY FIVE MONTHS OLD OMG.) That badonkadonk of yours refuses to fit into anything smaller than size 24-months. Winter should be very interesting here wardrobe-wise. I have put your grandparents on alert to check all clearance racks for size 24-month capris, because that is just how short your legs are. They will fit like pants and be perfect.

You don't say!

You are sitting up on your own now, but I don't trust you enough to leave you sitting anywhere by yourself. You enjoy randomly flinging yourself backwards when we're sitting on the bed. You can also roll from back to tummy but get pretty frustrated if I don't flip you back over in a timely manner.

You hate pacifiers. Half of me loves this (no nasty pacifiers to keep up with!) but the other half of me is kind of grossed out thinking of what sorts of disgusting things your mouth will come into contact with by thumb-sucking (dirty hands!).

You look so so interested in food, but I'm holding off on letting you try anything til after next month. Although you would NOT quit reaching for a banana that your dad was holding the other day, so he let you attempt to taste it. You were not impressed. Hopefully that will tide you over for another month or so.

You ADORE Sam. I think you prefer him over me. If it weren't for the milk situation we've got goin' on, I'd bet money on it. And he loves you too. We were clearing out your closet today (you know, just bagging up the 9-month clothes), and Sam accompanied me on a potty break. (You were sitting in your sleeper/rocker in your room.) I assume you were a little peeved because we didn't bring you with us. (I'm sorry.) So I asked Sam if he would go talk to you. He ran away and when I peeked through the door, he was hovered over you, rocking you gently and speaking his little gibberish language that you probably understand perfectly. And you- YOU- immediately stopped whining and looked at him with happy eyes and a big, wide smile.

Yep, that one.

You were also whining while I was making dinner tonight (surprise! How dare anyone else eat around here..) and Sam creeped toward you, then quickly hiked up his shorts to reveal his BABY THIGHS!!!
(We squeal for that around here. He has such cute little skinny thighs, and he'll hike up his shorts to show them to us. So we hoot and holler and make a big deal out of them. I guess he thought Molly would think it was funny and stop crying. But alas. Even sweet baby thighs can't satisfy a baby during The Witching Hour.)

Do I look impressed? No? Good.

You are right on track with your development. The nurse-practitioner that saw you this past Friday was just so impressed with you. Your alertness, sunny disposition, willingness to cooperate during the exam, and of course, your size. People do a double-take when they find out that you are the product of breastmilk.

Say what now?

Goh-zillah!!!

And your cheeks are still defying gravity.

Also, I know you appear to never wear any clothes. But this little photo session was done this morning while we were the only two up. I didn't want to creep upstairs and risk waking your brother. So off with the swaddle and outside we went! You're in such a perfect mood in the mornings.

I love you!

The Good, The Great, The Ugly, The Bucket List- 5 Quick-Takes Version

To be clear, y'all know there isn't going to be anything "quick" about these quick-takes, right? Ok, good. Moving on.

The Good:

1. We had the most pleasant drive down to south Alabama last Saturday. The kids were PERFECT. And that NEVER HAPPENS. I think we might have been bracing ourselves for a drive like the PA trip of 2012, so basically, they could have been screaming like banshees and we could have picked up 12 hitch-hikers and it would have still been an easier trip than the trip to PA. So I guess this is not saying much at all. But there wasn't a ton of wailing and gnashing of teeth, so we call that a success around these parts.

This is how you change diapers.

2. My mom had wine in her fridge.

3. Molly didn't sleep horribly the first night (although she didn't sleep straight through either, so... meh).

4. Steve was able to successfully fill Sam's prescription for Epi-pens so that my parents could stab him in the thigh if necessary. We have good insurance, so the Epi-pens cost $12 instead of the $315 the pharmacist quoted Steve.

5. I left my camera at home. Originally, I thought this would be categorized as "ugly" but it was actually really nice. No worries about my camera getting sand in it or scratched or lost. No lugging that thing around. I just had my phone. No guilt for having crappy vacation pictures.

The Great:

1. WE LEFT THE KIDS WITH MY PARENTS AND FLEW LIKE THE WIND TO THE BEACH!!!!! (I cannot put enough emphasis on how great that is. The screaming caps-lock doesn't quite capture it all the way.)

2. We were on our own schedule (read: we did everything later than we normally would) and laughed at the frantic moms and dads that were freaking out over naptimes and feeding schedules and if the sun was too bright, etc.

Drunk off wine. Or shrimp. Maybe both.

3. We drank fruity drinks and wine. Although, I must admit that I did not drink nearly as much as I thought I would. The first day there, I practically killed a bottle all by myself. Then I took a 3-hour nap. Steve says the wine caused the nap, but I just think that I was TIRED (guess who got up with Molly the night before?) and I don't do 1-hour naps anyway. Talk about a waste. I would have slept longer than 3 hours, but someone was very insistent that we eat dinner, so I had to get up.

4. I ate more shrimp than is probably healthy, but the scale says that I lost weight. So..... new shrimp diet?

5. My kids apparently behaved like little angels while we were gone and only started getting whiny/misbehaving when we arrived back home. Of course.

6. WE HAD ENOUGH MILK!!!! Since my supply took a nosedive way back when this summer, my frozen stash was kinda weak-sauce, so I was worried that Molly would run out of food while we were gone. I left my parents with some water and formula, JUST IN CASE. But we got back (with 20 bags of milk) just in time. My mom also single-handedly eradicated Molly's raging case of cradle-cap and taught her how to sit up unassisted.

Moo.

7. Time away from the kids felt REALLY REALLY GOOD. I love them to death, but oh my word, it was so nice to have some one-on-one time with Steve and not have to worry about who needs a new diaper, if we even HAVE any clean diapers, food, pumping, allergies, yadda yadda. I knew they were in capable hands and that they were happy.

The Ugly:

1. It rained most of the time we were at the beach. This would seem ugly, but I think it was a blessing in disguise. Had the weather been super-nice, I would have over-planned the hell out of this trip and we would have come back exhausted. The bad weather gave us a chance to just chill out and enjoy each other's company.

2. We stayed at a resort (*deal of the century*) but spent our last night there lying in bed, watching Teen Mom. We get about six channels here at home, so we caught up on the white-trash drama we used to watch in college. Sadly, not much has changed with these folks. Everyone is still desperate and stupid. When we turned off the TV, we felt like the greatest parents ever though.

3. A lady got out of the hot tub while we were still sitting in it and I immediately said, "Oh I miss Molly's thighs."

I am a firm believer that any bathing suit can be offensive if the right (wrong?) person is wearing it.

4. My hair. The frizz was out of control most of the time we were down there.

101 in 1,001 items checked off:

1. On our way back to my parents' house, Steve casually said, "Do you wanna go shooting?" Sure. Why not? Let the record show that I have never fired a gun before. I figured it would be very easy and fun. Almost like shooting a squirt gun. They give me this little "girly" gun and talk about how easy this gun is to use. Steve gets a big manly gun and it is very scary-looking. I stick with my girly gun and WHOA did I scream when Steve shot the first round. (To be fair, the casing flew back and hit me in the head, catching me off-guard... so... there.) After I shot my first round, I was thankful I did not request a shotgun because I'm positive I would have flown on my back and shot the ceiling. Little gun had some kick to it! (Steve agreed after firing it again later. Am not exaggerating.) Since I am an extreme novice when it comes to using deadly force, Steve would have me fire a shot, make sure I had my finger off the trigger, put the safety on, set the gun down, and check out the target. This made firing go v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, as you can imagine. (Can you tell the man runs ranges for a living?) After the first few times of doing that, he encouraged me to just keep shooting. Get my sights lined back up and shoot again.

You know that saying, "Guns don't hurt people; people hurt people." Yes. But no. This gun turned on me. It hurt me. After firing a few rounds back-to-back, I felt the gun HIT me. Like, a whap on the hand. I wiggled it for a second and went back to firing. After finishing up those last two shots, I looked down at my hand and IT WAS COVERED IN LOTS OF BLOOD. Apparently, being the novice gun-shooting idiot that I am, I pulled my left hand up closer to the top of the gun at some point while firing, and when the gun kicked back, it flew straight into my poorly-positioned thumb. So yeowch. I had to take my bloody hands out to the gun-people and explain to them that my husband did not shoot me, but that I had done this to myself. (OH THE SHAME.) They gave me a bandaid and only charged me half price because I "spent most of my shooting time injured." Yes. How lame. After seeking the medical attention of the bathroom sink and its handsoap, I took my wounded butt back into the range where Steve was patiently waiting. He insisted that I shoot his gun. Not as much kick, easier to handle, blah blah. But no. I had already developed a healthy fear of guns (in 5 minutes!) and only wanted to watch. So Steve fired off the rest of our ammo and we called it a day.

On the plus side, the eight shots that I fired were all kill shots, with the exception of a groin shot. Which, let's face it, is basically a kill shot. So I'm confident that I can protect myself in the face of a very patient and non-moving intruder. "You just stay right there while I stick my bullets in this whatchamacallit and then figure out where the safety button is. This isn't like the one I shot that one day at the range. Now let me get my other hand outta the way. You wouldn't believe what happened the last time I shot one of these. Whoo boy, my stupid thumb got in the way of this gun ya see, and I swear I almost passed out from the blood loss. Kinda like what's fixin' to happen to you." *BAM!* Right in the baby-maker. See, I would distract him with my incessant babbling and then I would show no mercy. You can all count this as your self-defense class for the week. (#19)

2. We went to this very strange restaurant called the Waffle Shoppe for breakfast thanks to the recommendation of my parents. It was oddly decorated with spray-painted waves and dolphins and yarn-like tapestries of Greek(?) women.

There were a few other random holographic pictures scattered throughout, and at the checkout, they sold trinkets and sunscreen that had to have gone out of date at least ten years ago. The first morning, our server had on bright blue eyeshadow. On our way back to the hotel, I told Steve that this is where our 100% tip should go. He agreed. Then he said that he was so happy to help this woman quit dancing. I don't know if she was an exotic dancer or just made bad makeup choices, but we ended up not seeing her the next morning and another girl got the 100% tip. It wasn't much, but having worked crappy waitressing jobs in my day, I know how much a $20 tip means. If nothing else, a definite mood booster. And maybe she wouldn't have to dance as long that night. (#16)

Do you see the weird tapestries behind Steve?

3. Before heading down to the beach, I had googled "things to do in Panama City Beach." There was a winery listed that caught my eye. Check it out if you have a minute. If you don't have a minute, I don't know why you choose to read this blog, because there is nothing quick about it. ANYWAY, the wine is all fermented fruit, not fermented grapes. We had carrot wine, orange wine with coffee beans added, guava wine, kiwi wine, key lime wine, and I could go on and on because we basically sampled every wine they had. (The man giving the tasting was really intent on making us try the "award-winning" wines, like the blueberry. Oh yum.) I originally wanted to go because I thought that carrot wine was probably something worth tasting, and I thought it would give us a couple laughs. But Steve legitimately enjoyed every last one he tasted. Comments like, "So refreshing!' "Delicious!" "This would be great in the summer!" were popping out of his mouth left and right. I was making comments too, but they were mostly, "Oh my gaw... THAT'S interesting.." "Ummm... good..?" "Yeah that's different..." (#42)

4. So in case carrot wine doesn't count as my trying a new cocktail, I got a "sunshine rum punch" drink at the bar. It went down easy, don't worry. (#11)

5. And in other news, we're picking up our headboard on Sunday. But I don't wanna write an entire post about a headboard, so I'm gonna let this leech on to my bucket list checklist. (#8)


Notice how there were more than five quick-takes under "The Great" and only four under "The Ugly." Also, none of them were quick. Sorry for the lies.

Am I the only person who would pay good money for doctors to make house calls?!

Oh Internet. I wanna get on here and say so many things. But Sam brought home some sort of mad cow disease from the nursery this past weekend at church and he has taken to spreading his snot all over the house (as well as in his hair). By doing so, he has transferred this horrible disease to Molly and myself. So despite STARTING sleep training the other night, we have had to quickly halt those plans because even I am not cruel enough to sleep train a baby that can't breathe out of its nose.

After a night of no sleep, we hauled our sick butts to the allergist's office. Could not find Sam's shoes that morning to save my life. All I could find were these little church shoes that I think call for socks (technically). I skipped the socks. I also said the F word more times that I thought humanly possible in one morning. I must be out to beat old records or something. After screaming and flailing and running out of milk and falling on the concrete in the parking lot and running into a wall and simultaneous crying babies, we arrived at the conclusion that Sam is not allergic to gluten. I know. I'm sure Sarah is so stoked to get all of our special crackers and cereal. He is, however, severely allergic to peanuts and eggs. Like, stuff-can't-be-produced-in-a-facility-that-handles-nuts severe. Ugh. And I thought eliminating eggs would be easy (he won't eat scrambled eggs anyway!). Stupid, sick woman. Eggs are in EVERYTHING. So now I have to completely readjust my shopping strategy for all of his "normal" foods and figure out what he can have now that we've identified these new allergies. (I'M SO EXCITED, in case you can't tell through the computer screen.)

After lunch (he had Cheezits! Best day of his life!), I chucked him in bed, finally got Molly to sleep, and considered taking a nap. But then Molly woke up. Because who needs a nap longer than ten minutes? Now we're just staring at each other, breathing like crazy people out of our mouths.

Maybe I'll get on here soon and tell you about the air show we went to last weekend, or Molly's four-month appointment, or how Sam won't kiss me on the cheek, but will now blow me kisses before he goes to bed (MELTS MY HEART OMG). Maybe. If I ever catch up on sleep and am not constantly in the worst mood of my life. (So.... see ya in a year or two!)

Crappy iPhone photos for you!!

Do I see milk in the background? Yayeeeee!!!!

 Sam is trying to teach Steve the finer points of proper lawn mower maintenance. "Are you sure you refilled the bubbles?"

Sam, sporting his new-to-him basketball shoes. I'm thinking this is not his style...

But there is no denying that they are hilarious on him.

Happy baby