Rich makes one of the last buses to the start and we are super early spectators. The girls seem slightly confused as to why they have to sit in the Choo Choo and watch basically nothing for an hour. With each passing minute, I can feel the girls' fussiness building. An explosion is imminent.
The race is in full force and the girls don't really seem to care. There's too much going on. And I'm sure that the two bimbos who decide to stand and block their view don't help. I'm going to open my big mouth and tell them to get lost but again, the girls don't really know what they are supposed to be looking at.
I attempt to walk both Em and Allie at the same time. Allie decides to sit down in the dirt while Em takes off. Allie, stand up. Allie, get up. Allie. Stand. Up. My fussiness is building and I explode. I'm about to lose it. Holy. Crap.
Rich runs by just in the nick of time. Thank you. We pack up the girls and the two dozen bags and head back to the van. Three infants - check. Diaper change - check. Diaper change - check. Diaper change - check. Two dozen bags - check. Break my back lifting the Choo Choo into the van - check.
Smile! Or not.
The girls each had "numbers" on their backs. Team Daddy.
I made the signs with crayons. To look childlike.
I wanted to buy all the girls running shorts for the occasion but there was only one pair left in their size. Em is wearing them.
You don't realize the importance of a schedule until the schedule is blown apart. The girls were awake too early and then only slept for a half hour in the car on the way home. They woke up right before we drove over the bridge and refused to go back to sleep. We put them in their cribs around 1:30 hoping that they would take a short nap. We gave up after 40 minutes.
The good news is that Rich finished the race in under an hour. Go Daddy!
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