Last Hurrah

Lots to catch up on here. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with what I’d like to post and how that will likely end. It is common for me to intend to post something, even start that post, then promptly decide I do not have the time to finish it. Let’s just say I have quite a few “drafts” in my queue.

So, I’m going to be crazy and go chronologically, even though it probably means I’ll burn out half-way through and you will not read anything about Casey’s time with the girls or Haley’s birthday. Sad, I know.

Over a week ago now, I flew to Rhode Island for a “Four Sisters” reunion.

Over Christmas, my sister, M, commented that we three sisters near each other should all go to RI to visit our “far away” sis before she and I had our babies and she relocated to who-knows-where after her hubby’s post-doc. position ended this summer. Little did we know at that time that K and A would be accepting another position even farther away in GERMANY!

So it worked out so perfectly that we had already planned a “last hurrah” before we were aware of the subsequent move to Germany. (Side note: at Christmas, I had expressed to Casey my desire to be part of this, referring to it as a “last chance” trip. This term was very bothersome to him until I clarified that once I give birth, I am essentially “chained”—not the most positive descriptor, but a very true one, given my lack of pumping giftedness—to my baby for at least six months at which time I may be able to leave for even a few hours, and it would be at least a year before I would be able to leave overnight or for several nights. Case and I have both flown/traveled enough with little ones to know it would almost not be worth such a trip if I were to take a baby. Two of us sisters were expecting, but none of us had tiny babies, and that may not happen again for awhile. Add the fact that where Karin currently lives is quite beautiful and fresh and exciting to those of us westerners, and Case began to see that I did not mean “last chance” literally, as in, we-sisters-will-never-be-able-to-see-each-other-again-if-we-don’t-do-it-now, but rather that we should seize the moment while the timing was as perfect as it was.)

So, I hopped my pregnant self onto a plane on Thursday afternoon (With only about a dozen comments/questions on my “state”—thankfully, Southwest has no actual policy on flying while prego—just that they “discourage it” within 14 days of the due date. In the days leading up to the trip, I had several people ask if the airline would “let me” on the plane.)

Karin and my other sisters who had flown in earlier from Denver came to pick me up and take us to our hotel. What followed was a great four days of catching up, sight-seeing and taking it easy (for some of us—Kar was still wife, homemaker and mom for the weekend, although “abbreviated:)”, and Deb was also momming it with her 10 month old, but I believe we all felt some amount of relaxation). I did feel spoiled as the one who was told to put her feet up, while Kar--also expecting--swept, made meals, washed dishes, and cared for us, her home and family. Deb and M pitched in while I lifted my cankles (seriously—I have never had such swelling—good thing I am now back to real life! It may just be dangerous to have so much fun!).

It was a wonderful few days together. I can’t believe how quickly it was over, and how long ago it seems now. I am thankful for my hubby’s insistence on taking a day and a half of vacation to care for the girls so I could go for longer than a weekend. That would have been ENTIRELY too short, with all the travel time involved. As it turned out, caring for the girls was just one of several things he did while I was gone, to my delight (and astonishment!) That post will have to wait till later, though.

Taking me to the airport. Sandy, I don’t think it was you—I think Claire just gets tired enough at this time of day that she’ll fall asleep in the car. She wasn’t awake to see me off, either!

My sis loved this sign.

My meal at the Wharf Tavern. Yum. My nephew Alan is in the background.

On the wharf after dinner. All hazy and romantic. Those first couple days, I could not see a flaw in ANYTHING in RI! Soon enough, I did begin to notice that they, too, have things like litter and bugs and such. The scenery is so different than what I see every day. So naturally, I saw it as beautiful.

Saturday, Karin’s church put on a ladies tea, so we joined in the girliness.

We enjoyed great sandwiches at the Newport Creamery (Yes, Brian. That’s in Newport.)

M. at the walk in Newport (I don’t remember what it was called, K!) overlooking the Atlantic ocean. All that way, and none of us put so much as one hairy little toe into the water.

Karin (middle) is also prego. Due end of July.

My three beautiful sisters in front of the gate at The Breakers in Newport.

We celebrated “little” Alan’s birthday the day I left. Possibly a very rare occasion for his aunties to be able to celebrate w/him.

This boy was entirely too clean for having eaten chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Very methodical and careful. Where are the fun pics in that?!

Okay, already 3 days have passed since I started this post, so I’m going to post one more pic and call it good. I’m leaving out so much, but oh, well.

Right before Karin took me to the airport, M took this belly shot of us. Karin is 30 weeks exactly in this pic, and I am 32 weeks exactly.