Holy 36 Weeks, Batman

For my mom, who feels like she's missing out on this pregnancy. Also for my sister, who quite recently texted me to update my blog. Fine.  I can take a hint.  It's not like I work full time, take care of two small children and waddle around in a ridiculously front-heavy body all day.  I've got all the time and energy in the world.  No problem.

Another prenancy milestone.  The one where I see a picture of myself and gasp in horror.  Don't the laws of physics prevent me from walking on two feet?  How is this even possible?

While I realize that the odds are against this baby being born anytime before 40 weeks, I have still been spending the last few days trying to encourage her.  If you live in Minnesota in any place that is not under a rock, you are aware that a government shut down is very likely coming.  Soon.  Like, Friday.  Technically, Kevin loses email at 1pm tomorrow.  And 37 weeks is technically a term pregnancy.  It may not be ideal for everyone, I know, Mom and Dad.  But I'm waddling, people.  The pregnancy glow is gone.

But not too uncomfortable to go the beach.  Doesn't Greta look cute in a sunhat?

Noah likes this picture of himself.  He's the only one in on the joke.