Weekends

I was talking to friend on the phone today and she sighed when I asked her how she was doing. It was later in the afternoon and I just started laughing. I replied, "I am with you."  Then I joked, "Yeah for the weekend!"  She laughed and said, "Yeah that doesn't mean anything to me."  I told her, "I know. Remember when weekends were a nice break from the week?" Weekends with kids are just an extension of your normal week, with maybe a slightly different routine. Unless the kids are at Grandma's- then it means something else.

Usually we have extra help with the husbands being home, but they are burnt out from their week so they need a break too.
So this weekend I am going to be extra patient with my strong willed children and my persistent dog. Reese, our dog, wants to play ball all day long. She doesn't stop. She even rolls the ball to the baby and waits. Phillip just puts it in his mouth.

This is just a season of life. I know one day in the near future I will wake up and it will be quiet. My living room will probably always be clean. My bathtub won't have crayon marks all over it from crayons made for the tub and I will actually be on time for once. (Who am I kidding)
Little hand prints won't be all over my mirrors and windows. My car won't have books, toys, bottles, crackers, and something brown from an ice-cream cone that melted in my daughters hand.

Everyone tells you it goes so fast and to enjoy every moment of it. I think they are right. I think we will be waiting for the weekends to roll around so we can be with our children, even when they are forty.