I've always said that I got my body type from my father, and it's never been as true as it is now.Pete and I traveled up to Pequot for the Fourth of July to see my (entire!) family and my friend Patti and other assorted hometown characters. The weekend was one where exertion came in the forms of convincing one's self to jump in the (slightly too cold) lake, getting up to grab another beer (or slice of watermelon, in my case), trash-talking during a horseshoes bout, or deciding what number of s'mores is one too many.
Under normal circumstances, I would never, ever, allow a swimsuit shot of me to be published on the web; however, somehow it's less embarrassing to be deformed and bloated due to pregnancy than shown in your normal state of being. Blame it on Cosmo.
My mom will be disappointed that I chose not to post other photographic gems from the weekend, including one of me crammed into a rubber floaty in an unflattering posture and one of her rubbing my feet, but I thought my dignity would not be able to take the abuse.
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