I love the weekends that bring me no closer to material riches.
I love the weekends where nothing comes off the to do list.
I love the weekends the chores pile up.
I love the weekends the laundry outgrows the bins.
I love the weekends that leave me without leftovers.
I love the weekends where no new trees or shrubs are planted.
I love the weekends the car doesn't leave the driveway.
I love these weekends that fall short of grand ambition because it is quite often these weekends I spend making memories with my children.
Today Layla, 4 years old, and I decided to watch Cosmos. I've greatly anticipated watching this with her, hoping she will at least put up with it long enough so watching it with Dad becomes habit. Her liking it seemed like a bar set too high. So imagine my chagrin when I laugh and she mutters, "Shhh. I'm trying to watch Cosmos."
She asked me all weekends to be "Trainers." "What's that?" "I mean, ENGINEERS!" We went to the basement, where she knows all great engineering takes place. She watched me swap out a hard drive while she created the latest spinning machine for Katinka. We relaxed watching cartoons and I wrote.
Katherine, almost two years old, wandered the kitchen wearing her stethoscope, kissing all the boo boos on Jackie and I. She checked out our hearts "dum dum dum. dum dum." She checked out my knees, which also apparently go "dum dum. dum dum dum."
Weekends of ambition have their place, too, but how fortunate I feel to realize that I love the weekends I slow down long enough for these butterflies to land on me.