This was a very mellow weekend. On Friday we picked my parents up at the airport after their week in Disney World. They looked a little brow beaten, but happy. They had a great time with Caroline, Katie and Chip.
They stayed the night and on Saturday Mom and I went to get a few items for my gender party on Friday. I have zero creativity so I had to S.O.S. Marinda and have her come help me pick out ribbon at Michael's. She came to my rescue, that little party planner.
Speaking of which, I should have a big announcement on Saturday, after my soiree on Friday.
If this bambino doesn't cooperate then I might throw one grade A Betsy fit.
I jest.
I will just be thrilled to know that all looks well in the 20 week anatomy scan. I can still have friends over to see my new house, eat nuggets off the Chickfila party tray and down some booze in my honor, even if we don't know the gender.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed though.
Sunday was spent lounging. My lethargy is rampant these days.
So is Kashmir's.
That cat is precious.
Even kitty haters can't deny it.
I melt when she curls those paws up to her chest. This was snapped minutes before she was scooped up and nearly smothered with kisses.
I may have been bitten.
That's our relationship.
I refuse to admit that perhaps my pilates tops are getting a bit snug.
This might be proof.
Check out that belly!
I still feel that some days you can't tell that I've gotten myself into trouble, and other days I feel that I look huge.
Pre-pilates evening was a time of hugeness.
The most exciting event of the weekend was when T and I finally reserved our week in California for our final hurrah/anniversary/babymoon/our lives are going to blow up in our faces in September/ trip.
After extensive research we settled on The Resort at Pelican Hill in Newport Beach.
This place looks swanky and we know I love the swank.
I will soon be waddling around that pool, donning one hell of a maternity swimsuit and slurping a virgin daiquiri.
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