Nesting (Like a bloated bird with cankles)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birds nest, but apparently, so do third-trimester irritable pregnant women (of which I am one).  However, amid the completion of my "67" itemized list of household projects,  we have been entertaining - like an evangelical Bourbon Street.

 

To begin, we celebrated Kincaid's 3rd birthday with a pool-side Lightning McQueen raceway bash. Amid the revelry with his 18 petite compatriots, water balloon tosses, a Lightning McQueen pinata and racecar "cake fuel" were memorably featured at this wet and wild, saacharine shriek-fest.

 

Then, the occasion of "Fall Fest" (a sanctified Halloween alternative) occurred on a "crisp" fall evening of a breezy 80 degrees.  "Snow White" and "Lightning McQueen" descended upon the humble parking lot of Hawaii Kai Church for a night of face-painting, pony rides and (general) cavity accruement.  Eowyn inquired as to the nature of my costume, to which I replied, "I am an angry pregnant woman." This actually seemed reasonable to her.

 

Finally, my fabulous friends hosted a "Champagne Baby Sprinkle Brunch" at the Oahu Country Club in honor of my 3rd (nameless) child-to-be.  While it was not my finest hour as a gestional diabetic, it did foster some of my fondest memories with the finest ladies on Oahu. For that, I am eternally grateful.

 

In the interim, I neurotically "nest" and await the advent of Frank Frankenfield within the cool climate of the Northeast, comforted by Dunkin Donuts coffee and distracted (mostly) by quick quipping Kulps- which I love.