When I found out that there was a lavender festival that weekend I knew we had to go.

When I found out that there was a lavender festival that weekend I knew we had to go. Now in my head I pictured myself gracefully walking through endless fields of lavender, looking like one of those dreamy Pinterest moms to be. Girl, pregnant, swollen, overheating and somehow became the unofficial caboose of the group. Every few minutes I'd look up and realize everyone was ahead of me. Meanwhile, my husband understood the assignment. He wore yellow to match my whole aesthetic. I don't even ask him to. It was such a small thing, but it made me smile. This was me trying to look cute, trying to pretend as if the sun wasn't frying me and turning my back into beef jerky. Girl. Then we got to the best part, the food stalls. Let me tell you, the lemonade was less of a treat and more of a medical necessity at that point. And of course, those Dubai chocolate strawberries. They were every bit of good as they looked. And of course, my husband made sure to zoom in on my exhausted, sweaty face for the memories. And by hottest, I don't mean attractive. By the end of the day, my mist fan was working overtime. My feet had officially declared defeat and all I wanted was air conditioning. The heat, miserable, but overall great day.