The Weekends We Live For

There's no rest for the weary on those weekends.  We throw a few bags into the back of the white pickup, and head hours away, either north or south.  He drives.  I sleep.  Because we know that once we get to one of two destinations, the good times begin.  And we'll run straight through.  And love absolutely every minute of it.

We'll watch gymnastics and basketball.  We'll walk the neighborhood or head over the bridge or to the playground or along any kind of shoreline that's around.  Pa will ice skate while Ma sits and cheers and takes pictures.  On a good day, she might even venture on to the trampoline {gasp}!  We'll play games and color and do play-doh and build stuff.  We'll read stacks of books by the hour and cuddle.

And laugh.  Alot.

These are the weekends we live for.

Sooner or later I'll meet up with a friend and she'll ask, 'do you have any recent pictures of the kids?'  And I never do.  No smart phone, no old-fashioned brag book resides in my bag.  'Check the blog,' I'll say ...



Kathryn & Lydia

Andrew & Melanie

Me & Alexa

Brooke