And then, nine weeks were gone.

And what a week! A whirlwind for sure, but really wonderful. We all know I'm a sucker for a whirlwind, right? This week started with a few days of nothing (alright, there was the Cake Boss marathon and the vacuuming of mattresses. I can't exactly go around calling Cake Boss marathons nothing because they're the bomb diggity. Much unlike vacuuming mattresses.) And then on Wednesday the something got going. We pulled out of our drive at 6 o'clock for Orlando- 6 o'clock p.m. And we drove there, that night, through the night, arriving in the middle of the night. We staggered in and fell into these pretty uncomfortable beds but we didn't care because they were beds, and after eight hours of the car, holy smokes, beds. I mean, I imagine you've experienced it, too: The moving of the pillow, the tucking of the legs, the careful covering of the blanket, all so somebody can start belting out Dixieland Delight and your legs can fall asleep right as you might have started dozing. BEDS!

The next day was all about the pool because, well, we don't own a pool and it was 153 degrees outside, and I think our logic speaks for itself. I actually read an entire book on this day, lounging by the pool. The very definition of vacation, no? The next day (if you lost track, this is Friday), we went to Universal Studios. We've been lots of times before because we have family in the area and always wind up in Orlando on vacation. So we knew where to go and what to ride, but even so, it was a long, long day filled with absolutely awesome roller coasters and less than awesome lines and sweat, but it was worth it. For example, Taylor, Emilee, and I waited in the line for Jurassic park for almost two hours- Taylor really wanted to do it, and nobody else was willing to get wet. Basically, you ride around in a boat and go down a pretty tiny drop, but Taylor DIDN'T KNOW. And so, when the ride BROKE DOWN while we were on it, right before the drop, RIGHT UNDER THE GIGANTIC, ROARING TYRANNOSAURUS REX, the woman next to him chooses that time to lean over and say, "You know there's going to be a great big drop when the boat finally moves, right?" Thanks, lady. Nothing like a little suspense to get a kid to cut your circulation off with the clutching of the arm. We got Taylor to ride lots of things he wouldn't before by, uh, leaving out some of the details. One day he'll thank us, I'm sure.

We spent the rest of the vacay visiting said family and eating crab and hitting up a boardwalk with some seriously rickety (read: scary and unsafe) rides and a whole lot of people calling us senoritas. And Sunday morning, we woke up, hopped in the car, and drove to Prattville in eight hours. If you're planning a weekend away, let me give you a piece of advice: Eight hours is a long time in the car. Sixteen hours is a long time to be in the car with five other people in four days. Think about your move before you decide to follow through with what is most definitely your most brilliant idea in 2010. Just sayin'. And if you decide to go ahead with it, call up my brother and ask for a second opinion. He may make you feel differently. (Seriously, we had a great time. We just drove a lot. This had nothing to do with the fact that Chris got lost nearly every time we went somewhere. Not at all.)

After that, I stayed home for approximately 34 minutes, and then I headed back up the ATL. I had sort of counted on that drive being a tad worse than full-blown torture, but it honestly wasn't that bad. An iced coffee, a phone call with my best friend, some Delilah dedications, and wham! I was there. The moral of the story is, people, that you CAN have whirlwind weeks full of LOTS of family time and TONS of driving and NO sleep and come out happy and healthy, coffee in hand, to tackle a week like week 10. And what a week it's sure to be.