thirty three and thirty four weeks

It finally happened. I missed a week and can never get it back. Moment of silence and a couple bucks in Knox's future therapy fund (I actually hate this parental cliche, but I mean, how true it is). Last Friday, week 33, the cards were stacked against us and I never got things in order. I was battling an awful stomach virus, the kids were going to my in-laws' for the weekend and I still had to pack them up, and we had no fabric. Typically, if I miss Friday and I at least try to get it in by the following Monday; however, this Monday I was meeting my in-laws to pick up the kids and brought back a baby child with a fever, congestion, and his own growing stomach virus. I'm not a fan of taking the week picture like a day before the next week, so I decided to scrap it. A story for the ages. 

But here we are, 34 weeks, just back from a trip to the pediatrician. Confirmed: Knox's second stomach virus of the season. For the love. Our morning routine now consists of stripping the crib and we've also added another load of wash to the day's events. Gross. So now I'm just sitting, staring, waiting for Surrey to go down in flames.