I remember a time when I did fun things Friday, Saturday and Sunday. There were single girl things like brunch with friends. There were couple things like hot dates dining al fresco. There were city things like mustache parties and jazz concerts on The Mall. Now my weekends are consumed with baby and family things like running errands and planning play dates. They make me so happy I feel compelled to go into every little detail with poor, unsuspecting blog readers.
Por ejemplo:
Atticus came between me and my pizza. I pity the fool who comes between me and my pizza.
Rocky finally got to play that game of golf that was postponed because Bennett had the audacity of arriving a few days early. His patience was rewarded with a nice early-April sunburn.
Bennett grew into his 9-month wardrobe. Packing up his tiny pants didn’t break my heart nearly as much as packing up our beloved swing. I am quite convinced we wouldn’t have survived the past five months without it. One colossal piece of plastic baby equipment out just in time to make way for another colossal piece of plastic baby equipment, a high chair. Dun dun dun.
My day with Bennett tuckered us both out. I was in bed by 9:00 and Bennett slept through the night for the first time in sixty-two days. Unfortunately, it’ll probably be another sixty-two days before that happens again.
So, I’m not exactly the carefree city girl that I pretend I used to be. Now, I clap when I see a baby burp, even if he’s not my own. Now, I rush out of work early not to go to a happy hour, but to pick up Bennett early or take a baby-free trip to Target. Now, I get a sense of accomplishment over putting the laundry away. That city girl and this suburban mom both live for the weekends, just for different reasons. And that’s ok with me, I just hope it’s ok with you, because this is as good as it gets.
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