I climb out of the car and I’m immediately met with demands from the rebel leaders.

“Just so you know, we are not okay with this. We will not be touching anything icky and we will report all naughty words back to Daddy,” Grace tries to negotiate.

“I’m with you girls, I don’t do icky stuff,” I respond. “We’ll leave that to the boys. Blake, be prepared for a weekend filled with fish guts.” Blake perks up even brighter, as do the girls.

“I was beginning to think you changed your mind,” Vivian says as she and Carly make their way from the house to meet us. They both wave to Brooks who brings the minivan out of the garage. Yes, the minivan. There are so many kids coming with us we have to borrow Vivian’s minivan. Again, I must have had a lobotomy.

Brooks parks the silver beast in front of us and pushes the button to slide open the passenger doors. “Jen, you know I appreciate you doing this so we can have a weekend away, but I’m seriously questioning your sanity. They’re my kids, and I have yet to find the courage to take them all on a vacation,” he tells me as the kids all throw their bags in and climb into their seats.

“This was Casen’s idea. At least you have a drop down DVD player; this is where I’ll spend the majority of the weekend.”

He hugs and kisses the girls and then buckles them into their seats before making his way to me. “Just bring them back in one piece with as little emotional scarring as possible. I would prefer not to have to explain to their teacher where they learned the colorful language you’re known for.”

“Hey now, I like to think I use profanity in an appropriate manner which is fucking ladylike.” Both of my friends laugh, while Brooks shakes his head.

“There’s the Jen we know. Now, don’t go getting lost in Walmart,” he says, slapping me on the back and heading into the house.

“I hope you bring his cone along,” I tell Vivian.

“Are you kidding me, between the baby and the vasectomy, we’re looking at months of celibacy. We’re using this weekend to our full advantage.”

“She’s not kidding,” Carly adds. “I took her this morning to have the va-jungle tamed.”

“Cut me some slack, the belly is getting big enough that I can’t reach it myself,” Vivian defends herself.

I laugh and give them both a hug and slide into the driver’s seat of the ultimate mom wagon. “I’ll leave you to your weekend of sex. At least someone will be getting laid. I’d hate my misery to go to waste.” Everyone waves good-bye, and I say a small prayer for my survival as we pull out of the driveway.

Between the potty breaks and stops to change out movies, the two-hour drive took three hours. THREE! It’s dark as I pull into the campsite, and Casen meets me at the van to carry kids into bed. I make a mental note to tear the van apart in the morning, as somehow Blake lost a shoe. How one loses a shoe in a four by ten confined area, I’ll never know, but we won’t be doing any exploring until the sneaker is found.

As soon as everyone is settled, Casen and I change into our pajamas, climb into bed, and run through the plan for the following day.

“I thought we would go fishing and hiking. I picked up some water guns for the afternoon when it gets hot,” Casen whispers as to not wake the minions.

I snuggle down into the blankets and Henri takes his usual spot wrapped around my legs. “Whatever will pass the hours as quickly as possible. I keep telling myself it’s really only one day. Anyone can survive twenty-four hours of something.”

He laughs, pulling me into a safe embrace, which has become a feeling of home for me. Kissing my temple and laying a hand on my growing stomach, I melt into him. “I love you, sparkplug. Get some rest; you’re going to need it.”

It’s not the sunlight, which wakes me up, nor is it the smell of bacon and eggs Casen is cooking for everyone. No, I’m woken up to the smack in the face served by a toddler rolling around in my bed. Olivia must have climbed in and fell asleep after Casen woke up to start breakfast. I was not warned of this by Carly. She failed to mention the tossing and turning as well. Now, the first casualty of the trip can be marked down as my right eye.

I free myself from under her arm and tiptoe out of the room. The living area looks like a bomb has exploded. Sleeping bags and pillows are thrown everywhere, body parts poke out from various pieces of the bedding. While I’m not sure where to walk to not step on anyone, I’m thankful they are asleep. Well, they are asleep until Casen starts jingling a damn triangle like we’re on a cattle drive. “Come and get it,” he hollers. Everyone pops up, wide-eyed and freaked out.

“Have you never heard the phrases, don’t poke the bear and never wake a sleeping baby?” I ask Casen when he walks in the door. I bite my lip trying to rein in the colorful language Brooks mentioned. “Momma bear,” I say pointing to myself. “Sleeping babies,” I add, waving my hands over the kids spread out on the floor.

“Sorry guys, breakfast is ready. We have to get moving while the fish are still biting.” Then he closes the camper door and the kids fall back onto their pillows.

“Come on, guys. If we don’t get up, he’ll be back with that jingling thing again.” My advice is met with groans. Blake even throws his pillow at me. “If you wait too long, he’ll feed all of the food to Henri,” I add, moving over everyone and opening the camper door to go outside. That gets their attention and they begin moving around as I close the door to fill my own plate to start the day.

Thankfully, my morning sickness has passed for the most part and has been replaced by a massive-sized appetite, so when Casen hands me a plate I attack it like a starving person. I’m not at all bashful about the food I may have smeared all over my face because of my slacking table manners. I notice Casen staring at me intently, probably wondering how much food I can actually eat or get on my face.

“In my book, pregnancy gives me a free pass on the use of napkins,” I tell him, digging in for more.

“I said nothing, sparky,” he says in surrender with a laugh.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking,” I respond between mouthfuls.

Within the hour we manage to get everyone fed, cleaned up, and loaded for fishing. Abby shows up just in time to head to the lake. Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling about her being a part of this weekend. I want her to have fun, I want her to like me, and I don’t want to forget to feed her like I did with the cat. I’m glad our first weekend together will include the other kids to serve as a buffer.

I gather the girls and we select the prime fishing spot while the boys unload the fishing gear and cooler filled with drinks and snacks. Trudging through the grass the quarter mile hike to the lake, I think I heard every excuse possible as to why Emma and Grace could no longer continue. Bugs, poison ivy, snakes—which I banned all further discussion about—dirt on their purses, I heard it all.

“We’re here, girls!” I happily announce when we finally arrive at the fishing spot. “Now do you remember what I told you about the bait?” I ask them as we begin to set up chairs.

“No worms, ask for the good stuff,” Emma repeats from the pep talk I gave during breakfast. I informed them how Casen would try and make them fish with worms, but if they wanted to get a good fish they need to use salmon eggs. I fully intend on coming out ahead on this fishing trip.

The boys join us and begin running the lines on the poles. “What kind of bait does everyone want?” Casen asks and looks to the girls to back up his plan for victory.

“I want to use the worms!” Blake shouts excitedly. I don’t really think he cares if he catches fish, Blake would be happy playing in the wiggly worms. I shake my head at his naivety. Casen lets him stick his hand in the plastic container and his face lights up at the sensation of the worms on his skin. As soon as his worm in on the hook and cast into the water, he moves on to the next pole.