Last week we went to the St. Louis zoo to celebrate our first Saturday being done with the house. It was a disaster. The kind of disaster that's funny later, but, oh my goodness, in the midst of it, it was not funny. It was ridiculous.
But this post is not about last weekend. I can write about that later. This post is about this weekend, which started last night, I guess, when Jeremy got home for work, we, as a family, all spent time together. Relaxed together. Ran errands together. It was awesome.
We went and looked at baby stuff, household stuff, toy stuff. This morning we went to the Farmer's Market, where everything is blooming and fresh and bustling. We had breakfast at the local Co-op together and people- and dog-watched. Jeremy and E went to the park to get tired and sweaty while I went to the grocery store by myself (a treat in itself). We even went to a yard sale and got a very used but dirt-cheap double stroller. (You know, because another little boy is coming very soon!)
And it isn't even noon yet. And yes, it's hot outside, and there is still time for arguments and melt-downs and plenty of things to do. But it's our weekend, not the house's. We all get to be home, together. And someday this will totally be taken for granted. But not today.