Two weeks left of session. That's it. These 2 weeks will move so slowly. Even more slowly than the last 2 weeks of pregnancy. Even slower than the last 2/10th of a mile in a race. Even slower than those moments when you step on the scale and the digital numbers are THINKING about popping up to show you just what you ate over the past week may not have been the best decisions you've made in a while.

Session is the most expensive 90 days of the year. I spend every free moment of the day during those 90 days planning vacations. This year, I think I may have set a record. Three vacations planned during the 90 days. Avon in May with my boys. Avon in September with my girls. And Disney World in November with my boys. That's awesome.

My husband is the most patient and kind man in the world. (Not that I compare him to previous boys, but) No other man has ever tolerated my bullshit as much as my husband. And sometimes, he even giggles about my bullshit. Sometimes he gets terribly annoyed (and then I'm annoyed because he's annoyed. Yet another reason that he's awesome). So, when I come home with another vacation idea (or one already planned) only rarely does he shake his head at me and tell me that we can't afford it (even if we can't).

I'm a pretty lucky gal.

And that's not lost on me. I know that I'm a lucky gal. I also know that for the first 3 months of the year I'm away from three handsome men (well, 5 counting Guinness and Dexter) way too damn much.

But when they don't sleep at night (like last night), I find that I don't really miss them during the 90 days.

I'm such an asshole sometimes. Endearing, isn't it?