Dad-o recently went out of town for a weekend-long conference, leaving 34-week pregnant me and Squirt alone for a treasured "girls' weekend." We've had a few of these, and always look forward to the special "just us" time to have marathon viewing sessions of all manner of super girlie shows, paint our nails all manner of super sparkly colors, gorge ourselves on all manner of delicious things (shh, don't tell dad), and, generally, just hang out and do whatever the heck we want to do whenever the heck we want to do it without that dad-guy being all guyish and stuff... This girl's weekend was extra special; I entered it overwhelmed by its bittersweetness. It was the last girls' weekend - the last time it would be "just us". By the next time dad-o had to go out of town, there would be another member of the family - it would then be just the three of us, but no longer just me and Squirt. That's wonderful! But there is a bit of loss to that, too. Everything will be different. So I resolved to make the absolute most of our last weekend, just the two of us. But once the weekend came, I had no idea what to do to commemorate this almost sacred last "girls' weekend". Really, in the end, we celebrated by simply experiencing it. And it was beautiful. I will always look back fondly on the very special times it was just me and little Squirt - and we'll have many wonderful experiences in the future where it's just the two of us again - but this last weekend marked the end of an era, and now we start to really prepare for the new addition, opening our home and hearts to little Deuce and the wonderful changes this little person will bring.
My little flower picked me a flower (well, the petals anyway).
Me, Squirt, and belly Deuce.
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