In spite of the looming money woes surrounding maternity leave Chris and I took a much needed trip to the beach after Christmas this year. After the agonizingly long drive, made longer by my insanely small bladder, it was five days of warm sunshine, cool breezes, and feeling weightless in the pool. Considering I look like I'm smuggling a beachball in my stretched-to-the-limit bathingsuit, weightless was awfully nice. We ate a lot of great seafood and continued our tradition of lobster tail, stone crab claws, and a nip of champagne on New Years Eve.
And you? You have not stopped moving for the past 807 hours. Right now it feels like you are practicing some sort of martial art in there. Chris was finally able to feel you this morning, he *thinks*, but I feel nothing BUT you. Active little thing, aren't you?
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