Please prepare your heart and eyes for picture overload. And please pretend there is some gorgeous ballad playing in the back ground. Because every photo montage needs a theme song. Just as long as it's not "I Will Remember You". Barf.
Rudest sign EVER for a runner. But coolest siblings EVER. Even though they were mad at me when they found out that races usually start at 7 or 7:30... on a Saturday.
My very own Forrest Gump.
Can you see me? I'm that little orangish red blob. If this blog had sound, I would demonstrate my breathing technique when running. It goes something like, "Pant, pant, pant, GASP, pant, pant HOLY CRAP I'M GOING TO DIE."
Best hug I could have gotten right then. We smooshed our sweaty bodies together and yes, I liked it.
Annnnnnnnd in other news...
Milo's hair is communal. As it should be. He's got hair like Samson.
Check out Lu's duds. I'm not going to point any fingers, but grandma definitely dressed her.
Meet the newest member of our family, Jack. Thank God he's just on loan out. I'm pretty sure I would lose what little sanity I have left if a newborn was my current reality. Milo was great and helpful, but Lucca was sensing that her baby territory was being encroached on and went on the offense. Which, was the scariest thing I've witnessed. And I've seen my own stomach be cut into and folded back with what I can assume were some sort of oversized medical clothespins.