Some of last week's highlights: sussing out treasures for clients, a working lunch with Sam and baby Wil, a visit to one of the most magical homes I've ever set foot in, fall nails, a Chinese noodle date with Audrey, and brunch with lovely cousin Erin and boyfriend Ben...
Friends, it is official. I am not a fan of the weekends. I used to be. They used to be fun, all museum visits and cooking for friends and art projects with the girlies. Now, well, not so much. We are full-blown weekend warriors, battling our way through volleyball and soccer, nutcracker rehearsals, school clubs, and Girl Scout meetings while negotiating play dates, reading logs, home repairs, and trips to the grocery store. In our down time we tackle the previous week's mountains of laundry and run an in-house restaurant. Good times.
I'm not complaining. I'm not. I know this is the deal, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm also a big believer that the ability to bliss out over the small bits of magic tucked away in the minutiae is where real happiness lies. So I try to be on the lookout for a moment of zen in a perfectly served volleyball, a freshly folded load of towels and Millie's satisfaction at successfully sounding out that seemingly impossible word.
But damn I miss going to the museum.