Back in February when I was restless, optimistic, delusional, and freezing, the thought of a September beach vacation was pure ecstasy. Cut to the first of September after two other trips to the beach, a wedding in Louisiana, and three lake trips, and my travel tank was overflowing. But oh my sh**, Caleb still had another week of vacation that we planned to take with his sister and her family. Despite my big talk, I actually function better with simplicity and routine, so the entire week before we left my attitude was so glowing I was thinking of formally changing my name to Oscar. I typically only accomplish one or two productive things a day, aside from keeping the kids alive, so the tankers full of time we had already burned by traveling had put me too far behind to cope with the idea of more time away with any semblance of grace. But annnyways, we had the plans, Caleb had the time off, so vacationing we went. For lotsa reasons the beach in particular didn't pan out, so we decided to go to the lake instead.
The first weekend we went to Poppee's lake house and took the fattest baby in the world.
|at 9 and 12 and 1:30 and 2:30 and 5:30...|
We came back to Nashville for exactly 48 hours to try to fend off a tri-female meltdown, and then drove down to Uncle Wes's lake house. The sleep sitch wasn't a whole better, but we muscled through with coffee and adrenaline.
|photo cred: Mama P|
|another Paula shot|
|watching the calf roping with cuzzy wuzzy Weston|
Aunt Rachel, Uncle Russell, and Nonnie came down for the weekend, and early Sunday we all headed for home.