Close but No Cigar

36.5 Weeks

37.5 Weeks

Should you ask me when I am due, I promise to answer December.  As in, don't ask, and definitely don't looked shocked and give me that "you must be suicidal" look when I tell youI have over two weeks to go.

Last Getaway

Last week we escaped life and headed to the Poconos where we spent two incredibly dreamy days at the Great Wolf Lodge.  Honestly, the two best days of my kids' life.  I was worried at least one of them would be too chicken to receive maximum enjoyment.  Gratefully, I was dead wrong.

Both kids begged and begged to go on more slides.  It was music to my ears.  What made it especially fun was we went with another family...a girlfriend for me to hang out with, a daddy for Allen to play with, and plenty of friends for the kids!!  Have I said it was perfect yet?

Granted, the 8 month pregnant beast played was only allowed the role of photographer and cheerleader, seeing the looks on the kids faces made it absolutely worth it!

After exhausting ourselves, gorging on food at the less than mediocre buffet, the kids were ready for the nighttime fun to begin!

Bathed, PJ-ed and ready for a raucous night of story and singing time!

The Show.

The kids sleeping quarters.  Really, they couldn't have been more in love.  Already begging for a replica in their room.

First attempt at group shot.  Half of group missing.  Other half angry.  Except for the baby.  

Ryder Heaven.

Linley Bliss

Daddy and Linley getting soaked.  One member of the party laughed.  The other cried.

At least they are all looking at the camera!

The crew of kids.  Tired and fabulous. 

Such a dreamy couple of days.  The kids were perfect.  The fun was perfect.  The accommodations were perfect.  Serious memories were made.  Success!!

We all can't wait to go back!

35 Weeks

Ignore the mess.  I am in Ryder's room.  Where he was suppose to take my picture.  But turning 5 seems to make him way too cool to be his mother's photographer.  Whatever.

34 Weeks

My morning face of fear.  I have lots of fears.  Like, what am I going to do with my life in 6 weeks?  And how could my tummy get any more humongous??  And that I am going to be faced with jail time when I murder the next person that asks me if I am giving birth in the next 5 minutes.

No really, that is my gut.  Holy crap.

Time to P-aarrgghhh-ty!

There once was a boy who turned 5 and had wild dreams of becoming a pirate.  He settled for a party instead.  Pirate hats were constructed and worn proudly.  Aarrghhs were heard constant and loudly.Pizza was cut and consumed madly (even if the picture was shot way after the pizza was feasted upon).

A treasure map was found.  Where would the next clue lead??  The rhyming ends here folks.

Excitement arose as the last clue was found.  Where was the treasure hidden??

Spotted:  The pirate ship loaded with loot.

Hit after hit, the pirate ship remained in tack.  Obviously the 5-year olds were far too weak for this feat.

So the blindfolds came off, the ship burst, and the spoils were shared.

Then it was time to celebrate with cake....that had smudged pirate fingerprints all over it.  Really, that was just a gross detail.

A birthday song was sang, wishes were made and candles (real candles, might I add) were blown.

Then it was time for all the pirates to load up their loot and head home.  With this treasure box.  That Miss Party Planner spent way, way, WAY too much time constructing.  Never again.

And they all lived happily ever after.  Or at least until the candy high wore off and the petite pirates were forced to walk the plank.