We went to Bend this weekend for Bend Brewfest. Last year it was rather a raucous affair and we wanted one last weekend with our friends before hunkering down to work in the final weeks of pregnancy.
The morning of Brewfest, we played in the Deschutes River. Randal and I canoed and the rest of the crowd floated. It was great. Maizie swam and swam and Juneau tolerated it. They both looked quite dashing in their life jackets.
Evidently, energy wanes during the 9th month of pregnancy though and Randal and I opted to be designated drivers and sit out of the festivities. When the crowd came home, quite happy and full of joy and karaoke, it wasn't quite as charming as I had remembered.
The next morning, as Randal and I went to breakfast with the middle-aged, pre-hangover crowd, we mourned the upcoming change and potential loss of pre-kid selves. Of course, we also had a five minute wait for Sunday brunch, so there are perks to waking up at 6am on a weekend.
And so it goes. My wish for us: still have a late Sunday brunch after a silly night once in awhile. And avoid hangovers as much as possible.
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