12 more days of freedom.

So Peter and I were sitting at lunch when I looked at my phone. May 1st 2013. I will leave out the expletives that followed, but let's just say it came as sort of a shock.

What immediately followed was the age old question, "if you only had a week to live, what would you do?" Peter immediately started laughing and so graciously reminded me that it really doesn't matter because I'm too fat to do anything anyway. Sometimes I forget why I married him.

Thankfully the next few days I'll be too distracted to freak out, due to our casual obsession with moving. It probably couldn't come at a better time honestly, so I'm embracing the cleaning and unpacking with open arms. It's normal to nest apparently, so that's my excuse for avoiding the realities of motherhood.