Everybody loves weekends. Right? What’s not to love?

It starts Friday morning for me. The excitment. I find myself chatting to Max about how it is finally Friday. “What does that mean, Max? Well, it means that tonight when Mommy comes home, she gets to be with you all the time until Monday morning.”

Friday morning’s commute is always the easiest of the week. It sets a great tone for the day.

There’s a farmers market near my office on Friday afternoons. I try to head down early to get the best selection. When quitting time comes I want to dance out of the office.

Honestly, I live for the weekends. I am so lucky to have a job. A good job. It is hard, but I am grateful for it. (At least that is what I keep reminding myself.)

That’s not to say that weekends are always a blast and filled with fun, puppy dogs and rainbows. Being with an infant 24/7 is hard work and can be exhausting. Hats off to my stay-at-home mom friends. I sometimes find myself looking forward to bedtime so I can have a break. But then 30 minutes later part of me wishes Max would wake up because I miss him. (No, I don’t feel that way about middle of the night wakeups, however.) I just want more cuddles and giggles.

Sunday nights are tough. After the little guy goes to sleep I have to stop myself from thinking about the work week. Instead, I focus on the tasks that must be completed to get ready. Here we are on Monday and I am already focused on the upcoming weekend.

Here’s to counting down to the next one.


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