It’s Monday, which always feels like a punch in the face after a fantastic weekend. Especially when that weekend had gorgeous sunshine and now I’m staring out the window to grey clouds and drizzling rain. It’s like life was all, “Hey, glad you had a good time. SUCKER.”
My husband was out camping for a good chunk of the weekend (Hey, he needs guy time just like I need girls night out!) and Harrison and I were on our own. As weird as it sounds, I tend to be a better and more patient parent when I’m “alone.” I think it’s because I know all the tasks are 100% mine, so there’s no, “Why am I doing the dishes/giving the bath/putting on the pajamas?!” My husband is a huge help, but I think we all let those ugly comparison thoughts creep in at the end of a long week when we’re tired and just want to collapse. Does anyone else feel that way?
Little dude and I made the most of our time together and he was in an awesome mood that made me adore the age of 3.
3 is such a Jekyll & Hyde age. It’s either awesome or you’re wanting to serve the kid to the wolves.
Here’s what we did this weekend:
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