Ask anyone who knows me: weekends in my world are generally lazy. Some gardening, some baking, some household chores may be necessary, but my plan for most weekends involves leisurely mornings with a pot of coffee and late breakfast, and getting everything that needs to be done completed before 2pm so I can spend quality time with a book or some writing or some other hobby. This time of year, that often involves sangria on the veranda, which is truly an added bonus. I don't plan any regular kid activities for Saturday or Sunday because I know we won't make them. We even gave up horse riding because much as I loved cantering across a field, it took a good three hours out of every Saturday morning. Swimming, karate, scouts, sailing, soccer, ultimate frisbee, even grocery shopping and errands...all scheduled in our household between Monday and Thursday (which, even typing this, makes me realize why I am tired). There are occasional exceptions for soccer tournaments, etc and family activities such as camping, hiking, sailing across the bay are fun and not included here, but routine weekends at home are meant for relaxing.
Last weekend, however, was an aberration. Grace had back-to-back flying lessons and soccer practice, my in-laws came for a quick birthday lunch, after which I quickly whisked birthday boy to a friend's overnight camping expedition, and his sister to another sleepover. Sunday was a scout fundraising campaign for our trip to Alberta this summer (and for which I spent hours making soup and sandwiches on Saturday night), and driving Anna to Upper Canada Village to meet up with her friends.
By the time Sunday night came, I was exhausted.
This weekend, thankfully, is back to normal.
Drank coffee until 10, are out looking at Andrew's dream vehicle (more to come), and have no other planned activities for the next 36 hours.
Unless you count this...
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