Up for Air

Hi friends. Do you know what happens at 27 weeks when you've decided that you are absolutely, positively done and not going to be pregnant for one more day? That's right. Nothing. You're still just as huge and tired and stretchy and achy as you were the other 189 days. After much sniffling, "bless you-ing," and coughing, it appears that we are going to survive. Kate and I, that is. Don mysteriously escaped the current cold afflicting our house. After spending the entire weekend inside recovering, we are hopefully on our way to more adventures. In the mean time, since I know you've been missing Kate, I'll throw you a couple of pictures from our pre-plague days.

Bet you wouldn't have guessed that we could all fit into the little green turtle sandbox, eh? Squeezing one more in is going to be tight though.

A trip to the zoo because she "missed the merry-go-round." She's into sunglasses now. As a matter of fact, she woke us up crying one night at 2 am. Me: "What's wrong?" Kate: "I need my sunglasses." Me: "Um, really, you don't because it's time to be asleep and it's very dark."

She picked the peacock. It didn't move. I wasn't all that thankful for this until the ride started. Then I remembered something about how pregnant women weren't supposed to ride amusement rides.

Dinner at the Flying Saucer. It was nice and warm on the deck. When we're about to lose her, we whip out the iPhone for Mickey Mouse videos.

Pooped after a long day.

If you weren't convinced that this kid likes the park and the zoo, on the way home from the grocery today, Kate tells us from the back seat "We go to the park and the merry-go-round and the zoo! That sound like a good plan?" It sure does! Those never get old.