When you don't have children, the weekend is that thing everyone excitedly discusses at work. Plans. Parties. Dinners. Get-aways. Whatever. Everyone seems to have a plan. The same is true for my coworkers and friends with children. But the plans are obviously quite different and almost always revolve around the kids. I'm not judging here. Just observing.
Basically, the weekend is that time that everyone uses to do the things they love with the people they love. To take a much needed break.
For me, the weekends are all of those things, too. We go out to eat, like we do most Friday nights. I read, catch up on PVR, grocery shop (yes, I love to grocery shop), spend time with Rich, see our friends when we can make our schedules jive.
But it's not easy to do these things.
It should be. We have the freedom to do whatever we want to do, whenever we want to do it. But we weren't supposed to, anymore. We were supposed to have to plan ahead. Get a sitter. Go to kid-friendly restaurants. Plan activities a baby might enjoy. So, for me, this freedom we still have is often an unwelcome guest on weekends.
Soon after we lost Ryan, we were offered gift cards to go out for dinner. Well-meaning friends and family wanted to do something special for us. I just cried. Sobbed actually, exclaiming how I didn't know how we'd ever go out to eat ever again. It seemed such a normal thing to do and yet nothing in my life was normal. Would life ever feel normal again?
But life has, slowly, found its own new rhythm. And yes, that rhythm includes a weekly dinner out. But still, only for two. I really like to spend my Friday nights, when we can, just us. Together. Curled up on the couch. Almost like how it was supposed to be.