Kids are in bed, laundry is done, baby food is made for the week, dinner is cooking on the stove. It's 7:30 on Sunday night, and there's nothing I need to do for the rest of the evening. There are things I could do, of course, but nothing I must. It's been so long since I've had an evening like this that I'm going to indulge and actually just take it for myself. I have already poured a glass of wine, and I think that some quality time on the couch with a book awaits me.
My weekend was excellent. I had a lovely dinner with a friend on Friday, a long walk with other friends on Saturday, a great night out on Saturday night, a fun playdate this morning, and a one-year-old b-day party this afternoon. During naps I managed to get all of my laundry done, cook for the week, balance my checkbook, and write all the thank-yous for the kids birthday party. Whew. It was a productive and fun weekend.
There was some awkwardness at the party on Saturday night when the host—a guy I know through friends and who I had not seen since I was pregnant—asked where my husband was. Um, well, I don't really know where my husband is, to tell you the truth. I told him that John had passed away (Dorcasina: I thought of you and wished that I had just said died), and then things got even more complicated because it turns out that this poor guy didn't even realize that John had been sick, so there I was, two beers into the evening (two beers!) and trying to explain the whole thing. The host was gracious and very sorry, and it all worked out, but AWKWARD! Yikes.
Might run tomorrow after work, but temps are supposed to hit the 90s, so we'll see. I've got my gear packed, though, so I won't have that excuse.