He Did, She Did: Girls' Weekend 2009

To his credit, Jason managed the girls for the entire weekend without incident. He also documented some of the things they did with his iPhone. However. I do not even know WHAT is going on in this picture. Apparently, on a sunny, warmer-than-average-for-November-but-with-swine-flu-still-lurking-everywhere weekend, he thought he should take them to the mall. Twice. And let them play in the germ-infested play area. (Other husbands, it should be noted, chose Chuck E. Cheese, McDonald's Playland, and the gym daycare as their disease-ridden locales of choice. Guys: Seriously?)

They browsed Nordstrom Rack.

Annie does not mess around when it comes to clothes.

And they tried on Christmas dresses and took pictures in the dressing room. There are . . . so few words to describe how I feel about this.

Meanwhile, in Winston-Salem, at the house of Andrea, the girls convened for Girls' Weekend, Year Eight. We stayed in on Friday night, made pizza and a big salad, and drank our share of red wine. Heather brought an assortment of pumpkin, raspberry, and coconut cupcakes (she shares my deep love of a quality baked good) and we all stayed up talking until well past midnight.

When we woke bright and early on Saturday morning, it was sunny and warm (and still fall-beautiful there, with leaves on the trees), so we drank coffee and then went for a long-ish hike around a pretty lake, talking all the while about life, family, kids, clothes, money, time, camping, exercise, food, and basically every topic under the sun.

On our ride back, we discovered that Connie had never (gasp!) been to Whole Foods, so we immediately detoured there for lunch. Here she is, very happy with the olive selection.

We went home, ate most of the gelato we hadn't already spilled on ourselves in the car, and eventually showered and headed out to dinner at the very cute, very yummy Print Works Bistro in Greensboro. (We did not get lost on the way there. Nope.) Cocktails, scallops, autumn salad, roasted garlic and baguettes, brussels sprouts, gnocchi = great dinner.

We skipped dessert at the restaurant so we could come back home to eat pie and drink wine. We did eat the pie, but to the great horror of us all, the lovely wine that Heather brought for the occasion was corked, and we had to pour it right down the kitchen sink.

Later, around 2:00 a.m, we did this:

Leaving on Sunday always sucks. Of course I am tired. Of course I am sad to leave my friends, some of whom I see far less frequently than I wish. But beneath the tiredness and the impatience with the travel drama (there is ALWAYS travel drama, and this time did not disappoint, as Connie and I nearly got bumped off our plane in Detroit), I always leave with a deep sense of contentment and peace. These are the people - outside of my family - who know me best; these are the friendships, among others I treasure, that sustain me. They're my life coaches, fashion consultants, financial advisors, decorators, child psychologists, marital therapists. We've been at (and in) one another's weddings, cheered for the births of healthy children, rallied around each other during the hard stuff, and it is both so calming and so energizing to spend these 48 hours or so together. We may have had to pour a little wine down the sink; Anthropologie may have been closed too early; and some people may have watered a fake plant, but it was good. It was unbelievably, simply good. We're already planning the next one.