A 10K, A Three-Phase Evening and Meeting Babies...

So I'm alive. I survived my first (and probably last) 10K. It has been hanging over my head for two months, yet for the last several weeks (actually since the 5K I ran on May 4), I didn't even look at my running shoes. Didn't work out a single minute. Stupid, you say? Yes. I would agree with that. I realize this is not an unfathomable distance. As I have said before, 6.2 miles is a mere quick jog for plenty of you. For me, it was my own personal marathon. Due to the incentive provided to me by my wonderful husband, I was determined I would crawl across the finish line before I quit. 

Here are a few things I learned from this experience. 

-training would have been really helpful
-despite what I thought, running feels better than walking on major, evil hills
-pee one final time before I start
-don't forget to actually train
-adjust my playlist so that all of my songs don't have the word "walk" sung in them constantly  
-I'm much stronger than I thought I was
-oh and train

So I finished in around 1:11, which is terribly slow. Considering I had the lofty goal of 1:30, I deem this a complete success. I was actually surprised that I only walked probably around a minute total through the race (cramp in my side during the last mile, a dagger... I would walk for 10 seconds then keep going). The hills were my enemy, and I think they were quite mean to put a seriously rough one right before the finish line. I basically sprinted the very very end, thinking... the faster I run, the sooner this is over. I ran with two moms from Layla's preschool, and they are both rockstars. I felt energetic and excited after the race, on top of the world. We stuck around after with the kids for the moonbounce and stood in line for 120398 minutes to get balloons in the shape of butterfly wings and a mermaid. 

Can I do a quick aside on people in lines? My children (particularly Layla), don't necessarily understand that if you step seven inches out of line to try to get a better view of the clown balloon guy, the people behind you will try to swoop in and not let you back in. And this INCLUDES the parents. When I try to explain that my adorable little three year old was directly in front of them in line, they just give me blank stares and move in closer. I swear I just start seething, but those are the times that aren't worth the trouble. We moved to the back of the line to wait for another 230483098 minutes for the stupid balloon that popped in the car four minutes later. I digress... 

So I'm all "wahoo I feel awesome" and we go home to prep for the pool (for the third day in a row). I take a shower, get my suit on, and then I start to feel the exhausted, body-turning-to-jelly feeling come on. I rallied (freshly juiced orange crushes may or may not have been involved), but I was a semi-zombie for the rest of the day. I had to snap out of my zombie-ness when I took Olivia home for a nap while Matt and the other two stayed. She, for the second time that weekend, had the most disgusting poop EVER. If you have experienced swim diapers, you know that they are essentially worthless (and apparently in high demand... Matt had to go to three different stores before he found a random pack behind another box of diapers). I did my best but ended up just hosing her down in the tub. She seriously needs to be potty-trained, stat. I'm so over diapers and I cannot fathom dealing with those kinds of swim diaper-debacle poops all summer. 

The next morning I woke up and hobbled out of bed. Pretty sure I could feel every muscle in my legs. Thankfully I somewhat loosened up as the day went on, but there is nothing better to ease an aching body than... wait for it... SHOPPING!!! Although I admit it is slightly stressful deciding what I am actually buying... but not so stressful that I can't do it. I mean come on, you all have read of my shopping addiction. 

Other than the 10K, our weekend was full of fun. All day Friday I was a bundle of excited, emotional nerves. Matt's brother Scott and his wife Karli were in the hospital having their twin boys. If you are fortunate enough to know this couple, you love them. They are just straight-up amazeballs people who will be phenomenal parents to those two little boys. All of us (girls included! I was shocked they were allowed) went to visit them Friday night. Troy looks like a total mini-me of Scott with blonde hair, fully comb-over-able. Luke has dark hair and is straight out of Karli's Italian family. They are perfection, and the girls were THRILLED. 

The girls had a total ball at the pool all weekend. Summer and Layla have made huge strides at swim lessons and are legit little fish. Livi will be up next for swim lessons, but for now she is a champ with her puddlejumper (best swimming-related invention EVER... clearly not in the same ballpark as swim diapers). 

Saturday night we had a three-phase situation. It started out long ago as me being very proactive and noticing that my dear friend and neighbor Tammy's birthday fell on a Saturday. I arranged for a babysitter prior to anything being set up because I knew without a doubt we would be going out (she is my true match in so many aspects of life). Not too long ago I found out one of my oldest friends is moving to Oregon (for love! I'm so happy for him!) and his going away party would be held the same night. Tammy's son had an early evening baseball game, so her gathering wasn't going to start until 8pm... The same time that the going away party was to begin. And I had scheduled our sitter for 5 o'clock. Hmmmm. The intricate planning began. 

Phase 1: Matt and I went on a date to one of our favorite restaurants near our old house... Sergio's. Authentic Italian at its best with the same little old Italian men that were there the first time 8+ years ago (and that is just when we started going). 

Phase 2: The going-away party (right near Sergio's). We said "see you later" because I refuse to believe that Big Dan won't be back to see us. 

Phase 3: Tammy's birthday partayyyyy at a bar right near our house. 

Love her
I realize I am jumping around in my days, not that it really matters. Switching back to babies... In addition to meeting the twins on Friday, we also were able to go meet baby Brooklyn (Matt's sister Katie's daughter, born last week) yesterday. They live across the Bay Bridge, so the Memorial Day Weekend traffic made it a non-option then. She is as perfect as I expected, and her big sister Kemper was SO excited to see her cousins. Katie and her husband Garrett are settling in amazingly as second-time parents. I tried to get a cute pic, but as I captioned last night: Kemper loving on Livi, Layla pouting because she wasn't holding Brooklyn, and Summer in baby bliss. 

So awkward I LOVE it. Kemper made sure she still got some kisses: 

Layla couldn't get enough. 

Olivia was more interested in Kemper's toys until mommy was holding baby Brooklyn. Then the little nugget got jealous and tried to cuddle up with me. I will have to say, I was concerned that all of these little babies would awaken the urge for another one... and I am happy to say that it hasn't (mostly). I am so happy when my friends and family are blessed with these new perfect little people. I reminisce about my girls as I hold them, but then I hand them back over to their parents and go home knowing I will get a (mostly) interrupted night of sleep.  

Happy Thursday!!! 

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