Long Live Long Weekends!

It probably had something to do with my first week back to work, my yearning to rekindle my old Friday night flame of nothing but a pair of sweats, a good movie, and some take-out. It probably had something to do with our new series of professional development at school, learning the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, of how to live and let go, take charge of my life, and get ‘first things’ done first. It probably had something to do with the fact that both Beau and I have felt a little run down this past week, in and out of colds, Kleenexes, and Carmex. And it probably had something to do with Cruz starting day care and being away from him more in five days than I have in the first three months of his life. It was a weekend to stay in, to hibernate, to forget the to-do list and listen to all the new noises Cruz has been making without any interruptions. And with MLK day today, I get an encore.

Cruz has been sleeping through the night since he was five weeks old. I’ve gotten very used to going to bed when he does at 10:30 and waking up when he does at 7:00. Of course, the week I go back to work, Cruz has decided he doesn’t need his typical nine hours of shut-eye. No, this week, he’s been up around 4:30 every morning. So, what do the three of us do at 4:00 in the morning?

We play.

Beau thinks it’s hilarious to unload every single stuffed animal and toy that Cruz owns onto our living room floor, then one by one, place them on top of Cruz after reciting each of their stories in a number of different voiceovers. My personal favorite is the bat/flying squirrel/hippo. It flies over Cruz’s head, telling him of his twisted identity, then dive-bombs onto Cruz's face. And the little man loves every minute of it. I guess he’s making sure he gets lots of family time before we take him to day care.

Saturday night, the three of us went on a date night. We celebrated our first week of ‘real life’ with some steaks at the Texas Roadhouse, and coffees and books at Barnes and Noble. We sipped caramel lattes, read Cruz But not the Hippopotamus, and laughed as he showed off his mad burping skills to the peaceful group of readers at the cafĂ©. I could’ve stayed there forever. Forever as in go-home-grab-a-pair-of-pajamas-and-sleeping-bag and sleep in a pile next to the cookbooks and self-improvement collection.

Cruz loved Texas Roadhouse. He loved the peanuts and the people, the crowds and the big screens. He loved the middle aged women who made googly-eyes at him, and he especially loved the cute waitresses that played a little hard to get. His car seat fit just perfect in our snug little booth, and he smiled at us as we devoured steaks, sweet potatoes and of course, the famous Roadhouse buns.

How else did we spend this wonderfully long weekend? We stacked plastic towers in between Cruz and a warm fire. We warmed our toes by the space heater, cuddled with Cruz during church, and cheered on a Bears win against the Seahawks. Beau was a lot more relaxed after that! We’re not superstitious people, but when it comes to the Bears and Cruz’s sleeping habits, we become a little voodoo. I am not allowed to talk about the Bears in the Super Bowl for fear I might jinx it, and Beau is not allowed to say anything along the lines of Cruz ‘sleeping well.’


Like father, like son.

Today is a day of naps and playtime, books and baths. Watching the snow fall outside and being thankful for a day off, a warm house, and a very cuddly little baby.

Happy Monday!  And more importantly, a short work-week!