Countdown is on, and a weekend of nothing.

Jayne sent us a cute text last week reminding us that it was our last weekend in DC with just us before we moved. Not that we're not ridiculously excited to get to see both sets of parents (and avail ourselves of their kid-wrangling assistance) over the course of the PCS, but it was a little bit crazy to think of just how fast the clock was ticking on the end of our time here. And how much we still have to do to get ready for this move, for which we will definitely be woefully unprepared.

So we had every intention of doing a big "farewell to DC" weekend.

But we were tired. Seth had turned in his last big paper and second to last take-home test last week, thanks to a lot of late nights on both of our parts. And I was more than a little overwhelmed at the length of our pre-move to-do lists and the complicated logistics the whole thing promised to entail. Plus it rained most of the weekend.

So instead we slept in. Well, some of us (the usual suspects) slept in, and the rest of us made Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream at the crack of dawn.

We squeezed in workouts. (Finley likes to sit on my stomach while I do sit-ups.) (Let's be honest, I only like this picture because it's an incredibly flattering angle.)

 I took Finley to the pool so early we were literally the only people there (she was elated),

and we did some cooking. (My sous chef licks literally everything. Just a warning for anyone having dinner at our house. Like alcohol, we believe toddler slobber "cooks off.")

We had dinner with friends and went to a brunch packed with babies at Black Salt, and we spent hours watching the little guy "work out" in his little gym while Finley feigned occasional interest.

Sunday afternoon, instead of cleaning out the attic and garage, we watched YouTube clips of Snoop Dogg narrating nature videos while drinking mimosas. I am not making this up.

The next couple weeks promise to be a nightmare of packing and errands and last-minute stuff and routine disruption, and we're glad we got a rare weekend at home to do not much of anything at all.

As for the rest of the story on the hairpulling terrorist, we are not sure the daycare-prescribed doll is working since I saw an incident or two Saturday night (although Finley was on her best behavior, with lots of "big girls" to follow around), but Finley's "baby" is a huge hit. So there goes my vow to avoid object attachment. She cries to bathe with the damn thing and, while studiously avoiding her actual brother, walks her baby around in a stroller and puts a pacifier in its mouth. We don't know whether to be exasperated by the whole thing or to feel terrible that we waited this long to get her a doll when she obviously wanted one.

And it does seem to be improving her disposition. The other night, she even tried to share with Ford, who was clearly not interested.

At any rate, it's my second to last Monday at work (!!) and Jayne arrives tomorrow and time is flying and this move is coming up whether we are ready for it or not.

Again, we are not.

Deep breaths.

The photo of the week is of me and the currently-serious-Mama's-girl Finley headed out for brunch. We're trying to treasure the last few moments like these in DC before we put the Capital Beltway behind us forever.