Since I became pregnant, one of the top priorities on my pre-infant to-do list was taking a babymoon. Of course, we have other more pragmatic tasks as we prepare for the wee little Frenchie, but somehow buying strollers and researching birthing options didn't seem nearly as delightful as planning one final getaway as a twosome.
Now as I enter my sixth month of pregnancy, prime traveling time so I thought, my doctor has other plans in mind: stay home, feet up, rest, repeat. All those fantasies about jetting away to Barbados or Mykonos with my sweetie will just have to wait until the new little bundle arrives this summer (OR, until he or she is eighteen).
Even though I can't pack up my sumo-sized maternity swim suit and stretchy pants to head out on an exotic babymoon (i.e. feet up, rest, repeat in an exotic locale), I can at least dream of a tropical wonderland, can't I?
I think I'd enjoy a room here, thankyouverymuch:
With a view like this:
And, waiter, I'll be sipping on one of these (or at least a vice-free version):
And since we're in pretend-world yet again, I will be wearing one of these vintage numbers, big skin-protecting hat and all:
I'm sure I'll find some of these during one of my long walks along the beach, hand-in-hand with my hubby (aka, he will fetch these for me while I wallow in a beach chair):
I bet the whole trip will be exactly like this (minus the Pearl Harbor & infidelity parts, of course):
Where are your pretend adventures taking you these days?