Going on a work trip today. It's a workshop I am theoretically really looking forward to and it's two hours away, which makes more sense than going to Minnesota like I did last year.
But, yesterday Wes had a 104 degree fever and today when I left he was fever-free but sobbing because he tripped over a shoe, which makes me think it wasn't just about the shoe, but probably the fact that I'm leaving him for a week and he still feels punky AND he tripped over a shoe. They have swim lessons tonight and their first day of camp tomorrow (which is at a Baptist church. A perfectly nice-looking Baptist church, but still, I told Ryan to crank NPR on the way home) which I will miss. And someone almost ran into us at a stop sign on the way to school, which wasn't that big of a deal except it seemed like one of those bad omens Oprah says you should listen to (confidential to Oprah: If I let the crazy pregnant anxiety govern every decision, I would never leave the house). And I had to carry my fourteen foot long maternity pillow through my building and into my office and just enough people made stupid comments to tip me over the edge into ugly-cryville. And it hurts to walk and I'm hungry and I miss the kids already and WHOO BOY can you say hormonal?
I have eighteen minutes to pull myself together before the girl I am riding with gets here to pick me and my giant pillow up. I don't think that's going to be enough time.
Thankfully she is pregnant too. Our giant pillows can ride together in the back.