What is your idea of a vacation?

The first text speedily typed with my fingers to my dear English friend Jayne was...

"I am in absolute hell."

Her response was full of sympathy, empathy and total understanding of my situation. It really brought a tear to my eye to think that she was really feeling for me and that I wasn't alone in my thinking. It was...

"Better you than me."

So much for feeling better!


We were sitting in the middle of a forest, the kids were running around on a huge climbing play frame, I'm in a sweatshirt, sweatpants and in my crocs wishing I had socks on. Granted, it's the middle of July and I am freezing my bum off. It was not starting out to be what I would have considered a week of rest and relaxation...aka: our summer holiday. Usually we'd be spending most of the holiday on the St. Lawrence River, soaking up the sun, driving the boat, letting the girls swim their hearts out, roasting marshmallows in the fire pit and having mom make breakfast, lunch and dinner. This summer however, we decided that since I could essentially pop at any point from now until the 1st week of September, traveling via a vehicle propelled by jet fuel probably wasn't the most suitable option. I usually have impeccable timing when comes to things going wrong. So...off to Longleat Forest we trekked in the car, a short 3 hour drive.

I can't honestly say it was awful because it wasn't. The first night was a bit iffy I have to admit. But it did get better. And if I'm being perfectly honest...what vacation was going to be grand when you're 8 months pregnant and walking around like the penguins in Happy Feet?? Certainly not 125 degrees in Dubai although, if I had a chance to go back and trade holidays, my butt would have been on that plane risking labor at 35,000 feet!! That's what next year is for I suppose. In the end, the vacation wasn't at all about me or even Matthew for that matter. It was about the girls and giving them a good time before the little Dunker dude shows himself and then occupies every ounce of attention we have. Avery went horseback riding and attended a jewelry making class.

On her horse...Domino.

Sloane got to paint with sand, sparkles and even string. They both had a great time at the Time Out Club and couldn't get enough of the subtropical swimming paradise. Yes...it was inside. I'm completely convinced that it's the only way to swim in England. I bought a huge wading pool for the back yard this spring in the hopes of a hot and humid summer and it's been up once. Once. Pathetic. Well, I guess if you were up to swimming with a wet suit on then you'd be fine out here.

Av and I after eating the most amazing pancakes ever. Not quite American ones and not quite English ones. Irregardless, they were heavenly and we should have gone back again!

Poor Matt was a pack horse for the week. Sloane in his arms, Avery on his shoulders all the while pushing me and my precious cargo up the hills. It was a rough week for him but he soldiered through it and actually enjoyed getting every bit of attention from his leading ladies.


When we had some time alone all we could chat about is..."what the heck are we going to do with a boy?!" We are completely clueless. It will be an interesting adventure for sure. The girls are all ready to pamper and spoil him rotten. I'm ready to just have him in my arms instead of flipping/kicking/prodding my belly. Thankfully it's just a bump and I haven't expanded into the size of a house despite feeling about 40 sizes larger than normal. No, I'm not about to post a picture...do you think I'm mad? Completely scatter-brained, yes, but I'm not the village idiot. Suffice it to say, I simply look like one day I decided it'd be a good idea to swallow an entire watermelon. And I don't mean the teensy ones you can occasionally find here. The good ole American-sized watermelon. Yep. That's me in a nutshell.

Well, I wouldn't fit in a nutshell but you get the idea.

I just love this kid!

So what else is new? Nothing. We've got the nursery semi-set up. We've got the Aston Martin of strollers on it's way (last kid, I figured what the heck, let's splurge...and silent all you "famous last words" mutterers...it is the last!). We have diapers, baby wash, wipes, cream, 4,000 onesies, 20 crib sheets, baby powder, special shampoo and lotion, shoes for a baby that won't walk for at least 9 months and other pointless baby items that you simply feel compelled to purchase. We even have help on it's way all the way from Australia...a wonderful young gal named Veronica. She's going to be an awesome big sis to the girls and my right hand mate without a shadow of a doubt. We cannot wait for her addition to our ever-expanding family.

What we don't seem to have shored up...despite the healthy weight of it's importance: little dude's name. I guess we've got one that seems to have stuck but we're still not 100% positive and if the other two offspring are any indicators of our process...his name may change the night we hop in the taxi for the hospital. I want it to be cool yet "different". Matt wants him to be able to run out on the football field without his name coming across the loud speaker sounding more like he should be on the drama team (no offense thespians). I think about Avery and Sloane and I can't possibly imagine them as anything other than Avery and Sloane....they have simply grown into their names. So hopefully we can get this one right as well. Otherwise, we'll be forced to stay in London forever and he'll just have to play cricket.