4.12.2013

Friday's Letter | 04/12/13

Dear Weekend,

You always sneak up on us, but never come soon enough. I think sometimes I take you for granted, all the little things I overlook each time you come around.

For one thing, this means 48 straight hours with my husband/Michael's Daddy. 48 hours of continuous fun and laughter.  It also means 48 straight hours of adult interaction, the most I probably have all week. Haha!  The weekends mean sitting in the passengers seat and not having to look into my rear view mirror 3768294 times in one trip. It means being able to take a long shower and putting on my makeup in peace, not having to cook or clean (and if I do, I have extra hands to help me,) and being able to throw out the trash without having to worry if I locked Michael and myself out....again.

The weekends mean the happiest I see Michael all week. The weekends are a time for a new adventure, more time with extended family and friends, a time of reflection on a great week at church, and giggles from across the hall because two boys in our household are roughing each other up. Or the cause of a tornado completely demolishing Michael's room. Usually both.

I know we should enjoy each and every day, but I enjoy you, weekend, the most. It's because...you complete me.  Cheesy, I know. But it's true. You, weekend, make me whole. Because I am constantly surrounded by the two people that mean the most to me. Whom I love with all my heart. With no interruptions or school or commercials or a commute or meeting in between. The weekends guarantee, without a doubt, 48 hours I know I will be truly happy.

And for that, I'm forever grateful.

~Kristina

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