Every mother has one — that last day of freedom, when your life was still entirely yours — only you didn't realize it until after the fact. I remember mine.
My husband and I hopped a cab across the city and though it broke down halfway to our destination, we didn't care because it was before car seats, babysitters and bedtimes. My purse was the size of a wallet and my mini skirt would never have passed the bending-over-to-pick-up-your-tot-test. To see what happened, read more.
When we finally arrived at our friend's party, we hung out on a sunny pier drinking cocktails and enjoying uninterrupted conversation. After that, the whole gang went to a watering hole for more drinks and dancing before we eventually went home in the wee hours of the morning knowing we could sleep through the next day.
A few days later, I peed on a stick and watched a thin pink line appear. And, realized that my last hurrah had unintentionally been my daughter's first. From that moment on, my life was no longer mine. Even when my husband and I have a night off or take a weekend away, our kids are always on our minds. And, we wouldn't trade that for anything.
Do you remember your last hurrah?