Negotiations are underway...

Attention: I am currently being held hostage. Or rather, my bosom is. My captor is approximately 26 inches tall, weighs 19.2 lbs and moves rather slowly as he is not yet able to crawl. We are currently negotiating my release. Situation at this point appears bleak. Send reinforcements.

So Adam and I snuck away for a lovely 29 1/2 hours this weekend. We ate wonderful food (which I forgot to take pictures of.) We drank refreshing cocktails (also no pictures.) We heard this little lady, whom I really hope we will all hear more of, as she has one of the biggest, velvety-est voices I've ever heard. (Not surprisingly, no pictures of that either. I think I left the camera in the car the entire time.) Upon my return John Harper decided that the best way to ensure that that never, ever, ever happens to him again is to permanently attach himself to my breast. So be it. For a boy who we were told would never nurse, who got his nutrients solely from a bottle for the first three months of life, and who once screamed bloody murder if I even thought about unbuttoning the top button of my blouse, he is surely singing a different tune. So I can't really complain. But if you don't see me around the next few days, you know where I'll be...