A Breather

If I wasn’t already engaged, I’d totally marry this past weekend.  Well if I wasn’t engaged and Wisconsin would recognize a marriage between a human and a weekend. This state is so backwards.

To say that Matt, Ben and I have an active social calendar is a grave understatement.  Every weekend this summer we have been going and going.  If we stop, it’s either because we are unconscious or have a scheduled 10 minute rest.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.  I love my life and since I’m the Cruise Director of this family I’m a major reason we are so busy.  My “No, sorry we are busy” button is currently broken.

While it’s fun and whirlwind it’s also exhausting.

But not this past weekend.

Friday Matt went with friends for a week of fishing in Canada.  Of course I was invited but at that time my “No thank you” button was working just fine because my intense loathing of fish and all things fishing (not to mention the 14.5 hour car ride) overrule any breaking of that button.

I think because Matt was going to be out of town, I made no plans for the weekend.  So by the time I actually got him out of the house (after he wore a hole in the rug from all the pacing waiting for his friends to pick him up) with his fishing pools and bait, it was smooth sailing.

There was lots of hanging out at the city pool, my trashy summer reading, Ben’s baseball (always with the baseball) and hanging out with friends with decks who feed us.

The most important thing done this weekend was snuggling with my boy while deciphering his intricate tan lines on this legs and deciding whether to wear the green or purple flip flops.

It was just what the doctor ordered.

Because when Matt gets back this Friday, it all starts up again.

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