When I was younger working for a bank that didn’t follow traditional rules of being closed on the weekend, I dreamed about three day weekends. When I graduated college my goal was to find a real job, and by real job I mean one where I didn’t have to work weekends and had a long holidays off. Three days to take naps, three days to lay out by the pool, long weekends at the beach. Never did I dream about long holiday weekends with toddlers.
Long holiday weekends have a different vibe now. My husband works in retail so I find myself solo refereeing and fending off whines of “I want daddy!” thinking to myself, “yea, me too”. Here I am solo ass wiping, solo lunch making, solo bedtimes. This is not what I dreamed about when I thought of three day weekends.
Long gone are the days of relaxing by the pool or laying out at the beach. My days are now spent teaching my kids how to swim and building sandcastles with them. And while I may be looking forward to returning to work after a long three day weekend with my blessed children, I wouldn’t want my life any other way.
For three whole days I received countless baby kisses, tons of snuggles, and endless make-believe play time with my kids. They may pull each other’s hair out (literally), making me pull my hair out, but they’re my little people. And while I may enjoy this day going back to work for a boss who is a little less demanding, I’m looking forward to returning home and receiving more baby kisses and bedtime snuggles.
P. S. It’s weekends like these I truly value our babysitter. She is a saint.