I am starting to notice that when I fail to write over the weekend, there is way too much information packed in my brain. So much happened, yet I can't put words to "paper." I don't even have many pictures to share.
I spent Friday night at a work event dressed to the nines, wearing killer shoes.
And by killer, I mean it took me until today to walk normally.
The rest of the weekend was spent just being. Errands were run and meals were eaten. People slept and played and ate some more. I could write about our lovely Sunday afternoon playing soccer, running around and enjoying the natural Vitamin D.
Or, I could write about the dinner which was nearly ruined by three early 20 somethings who were clearly ENJOYING their Sunday afternoon. Me, being me, felt the need to almost stick my nose in their business. Were it not for the calm, and somewhat frightened of my behavior husband, things may have turned out differently at our new Chipotle.
Even worse, I could write about the heartache of failed marriages. Sunday was met with stories of broken vows and innocent children left to deal with the aftermath of infidelity. This makes the third broken family in less than six months that we know personally. (We won't speak of Sandra Bullock and her story of lies and betrayal. She is a former Pirate and we are on her side.)
There aren't enough words to write a post script to all this craziness. What I know is I am loved. I am blessed. I am lucky.
Opa can't even handle bubble chasing.happymommy