I Would Do Anything For A Soft Pretzel (But I Won't Do That)

First things first.If you've never seen a pregnant woman, her uninhibited sister, and her sensibly-dressed mother rocking out at a Meatloaf concert, then you would have been pleasantly surprised to accompany me and my clan to the 2011 NJ Festival of Ballooning on Sunday, where he played a 2-hour concert. The Loaf was awesome. 63 years old and still rocking, despite the considerable heat. He might have been a little overdone (and weren't we all, with a heat index of 102), but he still looked great.

...I think.
(He was kind of far away)
But Brian's uber-zoom camera managed to catch him during Bat Out Of Hell, and from what I can tell, he looks damn good, considering his age and the oven-like conditions:

Nothing says "Rock 'N Roll" like a bedazzled skull vest.
Nothing.

The only disappointment was that he didn't play I Would Do Anything For Love. And, because apparently being pregnant isn't excuse enough to get you backstage, I never got to ask him what he WON'T do for love.

Although my suspicion is that it involves somebody taking something up the corn-hole.

The festival itself was awesome too. Spectacularly organized and well run - although I will say that if your tent advertises soft pretzels, you'd better HAVE soft pretzels, motherf*cker, or some hungry, over-heated preggo is likely to go all monkey knife fight on your ass.

"Oh, I'm sorry - we don't sell soft pretzels"
"But your sign says 'Soft Pretzels' on it"
"I know, but we don't sell them. It's wrong"

*stony silence in which I put the Maloik on you*

Regardless.
There's really nothing as magical as watching 125 hot-air balloons rising from the ground en masse. It was a spectacular sight, and totally worth the $20 admission price.
And next year, we will undoubtedly be back with our two little meatloaves in tow.
I can't wait.

Awww - they look just like their mother

So that was my weekend.
It was great to get out of the house. Although preparing for twins has been an exciting time in my life overall, I will say that pregnancy itself is a lot more boring than I imagined, considering I can't go anywhere or do 99% of the things I used to do.
Fortunately, I have some nice things to look forward to this month - a Birthday get-away with the hubs this weekend, followed by a week of fake "vacation" in which my sister comes over and we spend the days sleeping in, knitting, eating pastries, and arguing over the validity of the Harry Potter novels as respectable adult entertainment.

But I do realize that it's all downhill after that.
I'll be approaching 7 months pregnant, and undoubtedly feeling every ache and pain.
I'll be slow, clumsy, uncomfortable, and secretly promising the twins a pony if they come early.

I'll also probably be no longer teaching horseback riding lessons, which is the one thing that gets me out and about these days. I've noticed that not only is it getting physically harder to teach the lessons, but I've become considerably less agile, which spells disaster around large, unpredictable animals. So I'm thinking that I'll have to hang up my spurs, as it were, by mid-August, which totally kills me but has to be done.
Because it's not about me anymore.
It's about my lil' meatloaves, and what's best for them.

Because although I want them to be horse-savvy, I don't want their first horse experience to include a skitzy thoroughbred trampling them in his rush to get away from the horse-eating squirrel.

(you'd be surprised how many horse-eating squirrels we have in NJ)

So there goes another hobby (temporarily) down the drain.
Which leaves me with countless hours to work, read, watch TV, and be generally sloth-like.

But enough with the pity party.
I hit 25 weeks today, which is a wonderful accomplishment, and I'm thrilled to say that in less than 3 months, I'll be a mom.

Wow.
Time flies when you're (not) having fun!