I don't remember too much about being pregnant with Ava. I have mental snapshots of the pregnancy - then, of course, faint memories of the end. But, then again, I'm not sure if I confuse actual memories with stories that have been told time and time again throughout the past 5 years. The point is - one of the things I DO remember (or think I do) is the sleep. I often referred to pregnant-sleep as "the best sleep ever." So I was far from happy when - the day I found out I was pregnant again - I had a miserable night of sleep. I tossed. I was hot. I was cold. Fast forward six weeks... nothing has changed. Every night is a restless night. And every day is an exhausting day.
"Florida" comes to an end for Fred and Ava in 2 days. Everything is packed up. I love to hear the two of them talk about the BIG ADVENTURE they're going to take on Thursday in a moving truck. They go on-and-on about what color the truck will be (I have a pretty good idea that its yellow... but no way am I bursting their bubble on this one), how they will sit up higher than all of the other cars, and all of the junk food they'll eat along the way. (Nevermind the fact that this daydream will probably come crashing down on my poor kid before they reach Tampa... but, hey - its a good thought.)
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