And then the babies arrived and the demanding work schedules took their toll and the need to save vacation time for in-laws and family treks back to the midwest became our realities and the annual Vegas trip fell by the wayside. Like Thursday night TV nights and Book Club.
While I grieved the loss of the annual Vegas trip (and Thursday nights and Book Club) for a time, I also realized what it meant: We were turning into grown-ups. With responsibilities. And babies. BABIES! And lawns to mow and mortgages to pay and dogs to walk and and and… It’s a natural and expected phase of life. And I love watching my girls raise beautiful children, settle into amazing, love-filled homes, and work hard to balance it all.
But I’ve missed ‘us.’
And so when the words, ‘Let’s go back to Vegas, Baby’ came back onto scene, uttered by my best-friend of 22 years (how can we be this old?), I did my happy dance. We’re baaaaaack, baby. We’re back! We’ve crossed a certain milestone where babies can now be left in the care of Dad for a few days and vacation time has expanded over the years and we’ve got a few more bucks in our pocket so we don’t have to drive across the desert anymore. We can fly away for a long weekend and live like we’re 22 again… for a few days at least.
And I’m so excited I could pee.
Of course I’m sad that only two of us could pull it off this time but I also know that there’s more trips in the making. Perhaps Vegas in the winter? Wine country in the spring? A Thursday night reunion? The rejuvenation of a long lost book club? Oh yes, it’s coming… it’s all coming.
Melissa and I are going to kick it off. Starting in a few hours.
And so as I pack my sensible shoes for walking and new ‘appropriate for my age and body type’ swimsuit, I’m smiling. I have a feeling this is the start of something new—again.