...was one of the comments heard yesterday, along with:
"When are you due, now, right?"
"Are you trying again for another boy/number five?"
"Are you going to get on the dance floor and push that baby out?"
I spent most of the night behind my own camera, so I didn't get one photo of myself in the least flattering state of human condition, well, besides me at 320 lbs, but nine months pregnant is a close second. The professional wedding photographer definitely got me in the wide angle lens at some points,especially since I was trying to get some candids at the same time as she was taking the real pictures. The boy child did get me in one photo, and as you can see, (but luckily not really because it's a terribly blurry shot) I'm the size of a house. I had a size XL maternity dress, and I was terrified it wasn't going to fit - I didn't try it on - just hoped it would slip on. I'm very lucky it did - because it would NOT go on feet first. I got stuck in it and had to try for head first. The shoes? Ha. I found a pair of work shoes with a strap at the ankle, yeah, you can see how THAT looked within a half hour, I had swollen ankle flesh bubbling over the straps. Bob looked anorexic in my shadow - since I'm now at least 25 pounds heavier than him.
As for dancing, no. Not so much fun. It hurts to move. Bob got lucky and only had to dance once, because the DJ didn't really play anything he'd move to, and by the time he did, Bob had a child sleeping on him at the table and got out of it. Not that we'd dance anyhow, it's more like me leaning on him and trying not to fall asleep while swaying back and forth. It was a rough night, and I'm still beat.
The kids did fantastic and looked great, and considering how late it was, I am surprised we didn't have any more major meltdowns. (More, because we got one, but then she fell asleep and we left soon after.)

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