Who fed my baby jumping beans??

Someone fed my baby jumping beans when I wasn’t looking. Seriously. Most days he just lays in there and sporadically kicks. Today, on the other hand, my child truly earns the nickname Thumper. Before he would just kick me. Today, he is a whirling dervish of unexpended energy. Maybe he’s still hyped up on all the sugar from all the Party Punch this weekend. Now, before you go thinking that Party Punch is something I shouldn’t be drinking (although I really shouldn’t from the sheer amounts of sugar in it), it’s really just a tasty punch recipe that uses pineapple juice, gingerale, and a couple other things. But it’s really tasty. And we made a LOT. So therefore someone had to drink it.

This weekend was my nephew’s second birthday party and I flew down to Tampa so I could be there for it since I missed Christmas. Cool thing was EVERYONE was there. Well, not everyone. My poor husband was here all alone and lonely.

So when I flew out I was just past 24 weeks. I had gone to the doctor earlier in the week for a checkup and to make sure everything was ok for flying. They had already said travel up to 36 weeks was fine but due to the Braxton-Hicks I wanted to make sure flying was still safe. Which, thankfully, it was. While I was sitting on the table waiting for the Dr. I was so tired I laid back and rested. I felt Thumper kicking so I laid my hand on my belly and got rewarded with a pretty hard kick to my hand, right around my belly button which is much higher than I’ve felt him before. He still won’t kick for his daddy (the little toad) but as soon as the Dr. put the Doppler on my belly he aimed a kick at it a few times too. Apparently he was feeling a little feisty that day.

So onto Tampa. It was awesome to see my whole family and to get to hang out with my nephew. He’s so cute and so smart!! And we made the coolest cake and cupcakes for him! He was so cute running in and out of the kitchen asking if we could eat the “Mater cakes” and the “race car cake.” He thought they were the coolest things! His party hat was a traffic cone and dinner was Dad’s delicious chili (tamed down for the tasteless masses though – the rest of us had to add habanero sauce to ours).

     

We had so much fun the whole time and laughed so much I almost wet my pants several times. Which, these days, isn’t anything exceptional. I think it’s more exceptional that I didn’t actually wet my pants, truthfully. We were laughing pretty hard. The weekend was great if not a little tiring – we didn’t do much relaxing the whole time, but it was totally worth it. But I think all that fun unleashed the beast within and now my little man has turned into the Tazmanian Devil.

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