Picture This

So we had some family pictures taken a few weeks ago.
At 7 o'clock at night.
In 110 degree humidity.
In a field.
After traveling back from Wisconsin all day.
In a field.
A hot itchy grassy field.
I loathe heat and grass together.
The shoot was scheduled to last an hour.
After 20 minutes, Keegan and Maren both started walking to the car.  "I done!" Maren exclaimed.
Yes. I done too.
We had never worked with Courtney before, and so she wasn't familiar with my kids.
Namely, they loathe hot itchy grass.
Like their mother.
And honestly, it's not like our photographer PLANNED it that way. "Let's get some really miserable pictures of your family! I specialize in miserable pictures!" You know what I'm saying here..
In hindsight, everything worked out just fine because we have at least 10 good pictures.
And seriously, who is going to put up TEN PICTURES in their house all at the same time from the same photo shoot?
Probably Courtney Kardashian, but we have already established that I am not her.
Sadly.

Last weekend Keegan attended a little birthday party for one of his buddies from daycare.
As I was picking him up I got into a conversation with another mom from daycare about being pregnant.
Let's listen in:
Other Mom:  "So this was a surprise?"
Me:  "Yes. Yes. A surprise. A surprise.  We thought we were done. But it's meant to be. It's meant to be."
I have noticed that if I repeat something a few times, it's easier to believe.
I don't miss wine. I don't miss wine.
Bullshit. It doesn't work.
Me:  "I had the Essure procedure done two years ago, and obviously, it didn't work. It didn't work.  It didn't work."
Other Mom:  "Oh, I just had that done."
SCCCCCCCRRREEEEEAAAAATCCCCHHHH. Record, that is.
Crickets.
Tumbleweeds.
Long long long awkward silence.
Me:  "Oh, well, hmmm, yes, well....."
Lady, you're gonna want to back that shit up.
I didn't say it out loud. I didn't say it out loud.
Me:  "KEEGAN!  IT'S TIME TO GOOOOOOOO!"
Really what can you do except try to exit swiftly and as gracefully as a pregnant body on failed permanent sterilization can...
Ooof.

Thursday we find out if we are having baby boy Williams or baby girl Williams.
Up until about a week ago, I was convinced it was a boy.
Now after a week of anxiety attacks and uncontrolled bawling......
It's a girl.
And Doc has predicted it's a boy.
"I don't believe anything about that guy.  It's a girl then."
Yes, Will, I know your faith in him has dwindled down to nothing...

Either way, I will be happy to see pictures of our 19 week old Mango-the size of the baby right now.
And it will be nice to get some pictures in the air conditioning, without all that hot itchy grass. Babies don't like that stuff either.

Here is my favorite picture, even though it isn't the one I am going to send out in our Christmas letter...ahahahahahahahaha!
I am talking, Will is pretending to listen, and Maren is yelling:  "MINE! MINE Toad! Hold you!"  while Keegan plays keep away with the baby toad he found in the hot itchy grass.
It's just so REAL.